Perdition
by Anne Whynn
Summary: Time only heals the wounds in flesh. The ones on the soul need more. When their immovable centre starts to come apart, someone must provide her a safe port in the storm, or she will do what all others have failed to. She will destroy herself. Revised.
1. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

**Warning: **Game spoilers. Rated for Language. Shepard likes to swear.

**For those of you returning to this fiction**: I have not added any more chapters. The fiction has been broken into a series of smaller chapters to make it easier to read. It has also undergone moderate re-writing, especially in the final chapters.

**Last Edit**: 26/02/11

**(/*\)**

**Natalya Shepard**

**{Service profile}**

Colonist

Sole Survivor

Paragade

**(/*\)**

**Perdition**

_A Mass Effect 2 fanfiction_

_Pre Reaper IFF_

_Post everything else_

Chapter 1

'_Mirror, Mirror on the Wall_'

**(/*\)**

_Sand. Sand between her toes. Sand in the wind._

_Wind. Wind on her bare skin. She was naked._

_She was shouting something into the wind. Shouting something. What… was she shouting? She didn't know. The wind whipped the words from her mouth before her ears could register them, her lips forming a… a name? A name she didn't recall. A name she didn't remember. She couldn't read her own lips. But she knew it was a name._

_Open area. Brown all around. The horizon lost to the shapes of mountains and the sand in the air._

_Sand. Sand between her toes. She stepped forward. Sank. Like a beach. A beach that went on and on forever. But didn't beaches have…_

_The sand was wet, suddenly. Felt like wet sand, soaked through. Yes. Beaches had seas._

_She looked down. Looked down at the brown that was darker under her feet. But not with water. No._

_There was blood on the sand. Blood that lead from an arm. Just an arm. A severed human arm without a body. Too far away. Too much blood when the arm was so far away._

_Suddenly a scream reverberated in her head. High. Feminine. Hers? Echoed and trapped. Nowhere to go but to bounce around in her skull for an eternity._

_The hand twitched._

_She jerked back, stumbled, fell. Fell and sat naked on the sand, her legs draped over a body. Just a torso. No legs. Just a torso. Face pressed into the sand. Bloody sand that was all over her now._

_Gasping, she surged to her feet. Her armour clanked and rattled. Alliance armour. N7 armour. Standard issue. She was a soldier. Just a soldier. _

Who am I?

_No one special._

_Her gun clamps were empty. Weapons discarded. They were useless. She had tossed them aside because they slowed her down. Slowed her down. Boots in the sand slowed her down. Sand slowed you down. But the blood. The blood made the sand stick. The blood made running easier._

Oh God! God please!

_Her voice. That was her voice. The scream. Hers. Others. So many people screaming._

_She had no helmet. Blood poured down her face. Her wound stung. Wound. Wounds. She was covered in them. Covered… Not just on her face. She could see her skin through the armour on her side._

_It was steaming._

_She ran. She ran from her death. From the deaths of the others. Coward. _Coward_. The words rang in her ear, whispered by voices. By men. Men she knew. Their names. What were their names?_

_Faces. Faces that were not faces. Leering at her. Hands grabbing at her. Dragging her back. Back to die with them. Why should she escape? Die. She should die. Die with them._

_Lie and die with them._

No! I don't want to! I don't want to die!

_She stumbled. Fell. Fell on her hands and knees. She was naked again. Naked in the desert with blood in the sand._

_Her squad. Her squad. It was the blood of her squad. Their deaths flashed in front of her, too fast for her to make anything out. Little more than an indecipherable, silent stream of chaotic colour._

_The thresher maw screamed behind her. She turned._

_It wasn't the thresher maw._

_Corporal Toombs wrapped his hands around her throat, choking her. Her hand grabbed his wrists. She tried to pry him lose. Tried to push his hands away._

'How could you? HOW COULD YOU?' _He strangled the life out of her, his eyes wide. '_After everything they did?'

_Behind him, the thresher maw rose, its namesake spread wide wide, bearing down on them. So big… So big. Toombs held her just as her fear had, keeping her from fleeing._

Toombs! Let me go!

'How could you? Back-stabbing bitch_!"_

I don't want to die_!_

'You don't deserve to live!_'_

_A massive fang punched through Toombs' face, turning it into a mass of blood and muscle, and impaled her through the che-_

Natalya eyes opened and her room was filled with the sound of a sharp inhalation.

The sterile white of her bed greeted her, bathed in a mix of blue from the empty aquarium and orange from the armour locker behind her.

It took a conscious effort to uncurl her fingers from the pistol resting under her pillow. Absurd, really, because she would be well aware that someone was coming to her room long before they got there, but it was a soldier's security blanket.

Shepard rolled over and sat up slowly, breathing out shakily. Her sheets were damp. Soaked through with the sweat that slicked her body. Her shirt stuck to her flesh. Stifling. Constricting. She pulled it off in a fit of fury and flung it against the opposite wall, her shorts following a moment later. Collapsing back into bed naked, she stared at her roof as the sweat cooled on her skin, raising goosebumps.

Slowly her hand came up, smoothing over the skin of her side, touching the unblemished curve of her waist. Foreign. Unfamiliar. Cerberus had brought her back, personality wise, morals, experiences. But there were some things that were different.

Some things that were missing.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, resting her feet on the floor. Putting her head in her hands, she exhaled sharply, digging her nails into her scalp. Then she glanced at the time.

A curse filled the room and her eyes closed.

Time on ships was distorted when you travelled from world to world. What could have been three am on the ship could have been seven pm planetside. That's what she was going to think of it as. It was going to be seven pm _somewhere_.

She felt the static of EDI's blue sphere simulation appear in the corner of her office, the chime too quiet to be heard from her bed.

"Shepard, this is the third consecutive night that you have awoken from a restless sleep. Do you wish me to ask Mordin or doctor Chakwas for medication to assist you in sleeping?"

Shepard sighed and lowered her head, letting it hang limply from her shoulders, "No, EDI."

"Very well. But I must advise you that the level of sleep you have received is insufficient for continued cognitive function. If it progresses, my protocols require that I inform either doctor Chakwas or Yeomen Chambers."

_Fuck_.

"I'll take care of it, EDI."

"Very well, Shepard." The static disappeared and Shepard opened her eyes.

Pushing herself up and off her bed, she walked to her shower, slamming into it with more force than necessary, making as much noise as she could. As the door hissed closed behind her, making her miss the day and age when people could slam them closed, Shepard crossed to the mirror mounted on the wall.

The face that looked back at her was hers. Same red-brown hair hanging to her shoulders, same violet eyes staring back at her with a hawk-like intensity. Same damnable splash of freckles over her nose that made her seem like a perpetual child. Maybe she looked a bit younger than she was, with less lines than she should have, but there were lines on her face that had nothing to do with age. Nor were they scars.

Positive thinking, yeah. As long as she didn't shoot a few too many people or shove more than a couple out of a God alone knew how high window, the scars would fade.

Or she could just get the surgery…

Normally when people had cosmetic surgery, it was to make their boobs bigger, to make their nose smaller. Not to ensure that the fires of hell didn't poke through the gaps in their face.

Correcting scars was not high on her priority list but if the scarring got worse…

She lifted her finger and touched her eyebrow, where another scar once rested. A scar to a wound that had been so deep, the actual bone beneath had been chipped. A miniscule scar that had added to her attractiveness, they said, rather than detracted from it.

But that was because her body had been hidden.

Stepping back, she put her hand on her collarbone. It had been broken, and the bone had burst through her flesh, leaving a ragged wound. They had said she would never fire a gun again. Six months of physio later and she was leaving daisies on targets.

'_You've made a career out of performing the impossible_.'

He had no idea… He truly didn't. It was strange that she had learned so much about him, yet he knew almost nothing about her. She knew about his wife. His son. She had punched his son in their first meeting, which she was sure set a _great_ first impression. She had wondered if he would be angry, later, but the fact that she had physically assaulted the driving force of his life had never come up. Anyone else would have likely laid her flat then and there.

Thane had thanked her.

_Siha_ he called her. A warrior angel.

Hardly.

_Hardly_. She pressed her hand to her forehead. She wasn't anything angelic. She was more a demon if anything. A monster. He had no idea what lurked inside her mind. Inside her heart. To him, she was that warrior angel. Fierce. A tenacious protector.

_If only you knew, Thane_…

If only he knew what she really was.

He would never call her an angel again.

Her fingers touched the unblemished skin, her eyes following her hand.

Her hand flowed along her breast to her side, where broken ribs should have been knots of re-knitted bone under her skin. Now they were perfect, except for the tiniest bumps where reinforcing metal plates had been screwed in place, plates that meant that whatever bones were broken in the future could heal within minutes of the damage.

She stepped back and looked down at her leg, which had been crushed and broken. The surgery scars were also missing, and the ache and pain in her knee that would bother her if she was on it too long was gone. Long gone.

They had said she would never be able to be in active service again.

Once more, she had proved them wrong.

But the biggest difference…

She smoothed her hand over her stomach, over her bellybutton and along her left hip.

'_Do you know what thresher maw acid feels like_?'

She flinched, hard, her nails leaving four red lines on her stomach. Painful ones that flushed with blood within seconds.

_Toombs_…

Her eyes opened – she hadn't even realized she had closed them – and Natalya stared at her stomach once more. Once upon a time it had been twisted and distorted, melted by a glancing brush with the spit of a thresher maw. A splash from the impact that had melted two men into nothing before her eyes. The agony of her flesh and armour being melted away had been nothing compared to watching them dissolve into red goo, staring at their own hands as they disintegrated into a sticky paste.

Screaming until they couldn't scream anymore. Until their eyes melted in their heads and their tongues oozed from their mouths. Until the ribs had been exposed, their lungs working and hearts beating frantically until they, too, had disappeared.

It had taken a few seconds to happen. Maybe less.

It had seemed like forever.

She had borne the scars from her time on Akuze like personal reminders. Reminders of what she had survived. Reminders of those that had not. Not badges or trophies. Just something to make sure that she didn't forget.

But the scars were gone. They were all gone.

Cerberus… _Goddamn_ Cerberus.

After all they had done to her. After all she had suffered. They had the _gall_ …

But then again, what human in their right mind wouldn't want a second chance at life? Wouldn't want to come back from the dead?

Key words: In their right mind.

Natalya hadn't been there in a long, long while.

Of course, Cerberus had counted on her duty and service to humanity and the greater galaxy. The good soldier, fighting the good fight, protecting the defenceless and killing the bad guys. A more altruistic person would definitely be focusing on such a thing. 'I've got a job to do' and the like.

But Natalya…

Natalya wasn't like that…

Cerberus had made a lot of assumptions when they brought Shepard back. All they had thought was that Cerberus – and therefore humanity – needed Shepard. Or was it that humanity needed Shepard and therefore Cerberus? Did it matter? No. No it didn't.

Cerberus didn't ask what they hadn't given Shepard. They hadn't asked what they had _taken_ from her. They hadn't asked how she felt about being brought back.

They hadn't even touched on how she felt about-

A spasm took Shepard's arm and she shouted, a short, sharp sound in the silence of her bathroom. An incoherent cry of inarticulate rage.

When she came back to herself, there was a crater in the middle of her mirror, blood collecting along the cracks and dripping down the shattered reflection that stared back at her. Shattered. She looked whole on the outside. She could heal physical damage.

But the reflection that stared back at her was exactly how she was inside.

Blood dripped onto the ground beside her foot, but she didn't care about the pain in her hand.

It would be gone soon, anyway.

Goddamn Cerberus.

**(/*\)**

"Are you alright, Commander? You look tired…"

"I _am_ tired, Kelly," came Natalya's voice quietly from the CIC. She wasn't standing. She was sitting, with her back against one of the metal supports as she idly surfed through the planets of an unexplored star system. Unexplored by her, not by others. The thrill of thinking she might get to name some unfound world had frizzled up and died with that knowledge.

In that moment, Joker was coasting between two stars, having mined the planets surrounding the other relatively dry. They needed more palladium… for… for something. God she couldn't remember what she needed the palladium for… She did remember that she needed twenty seven thousand units in total, and to not know what it was for seemed relatively irresponsible…

"Are you not sleeping correctly, Commander?"

"That would generally be the reason people are tired when they haven't left the ship in a week," murmured Natalya. "Grunt must be chewing on his _tank_ by now…"

The silence stretched and Natalya was very aware that Kelly was trying to think of a good way to broach the subject. She didn't feel like helping her. It wasn't that she disliked Kelly. Not at all. The girl did happen to be a bit too… 'Get in touch with our emotions' for her taste, but that was her job. Kelly was a 'people person', and Shepard was a 'shoot people person'. The latter didn't leave a lot of room for intrapersonal skills.

It was like Samara said; if she had to kill a man, did she want to know he was a devoted father? That he was married? Did she want to know about that asari's mother and father? Did she want to know about that krogan's possibility for breeding? Did she want to know about that turian's opinion on humanity?

She kicked her boot against the metal pole directly opposite her, eyes narrowed. Everyone had a story. Everyone had had some shit happen to them that deserved a lick of sympathy when taken out of context. Even the most hard-bitten and violent people in the galaxy had stories.

People she trusted had stories. People she cared about had stories. Thane. Tali. Garrus. Anderson. They had stories that she knew to the most minute detail, stories that curled in her gut and settled there, waiting patiently for the time that they could sprout painful barbs and sink them into her heart for the greatest amount of damage.

Saren had had a story, too. About his brother. A brother he probably loved and looked up to. A brother he had adored. A brother that had died during the First Contact War and nurtured a seed of hatred in Saren's heart, twisting him and perverting who he might have become. Instead, he was manipulated into being the slave of a Reaper, and almost brought about a synthetic apocalypse which would have resulted in the death of all organic life. What had happened to Saren? His last act of defiance had been to shoot himself in the temple. All he could do to help undo what Sovereign had done through him was to die. Even then his body had been twisted and perverted by Sovereign, into a monstrous external representation of what Sovreign had done to his will, something that not even Saren had deserved.

_Not even Saren_? Her head came down. Saren had been one of the best Spectres that the Council had ever had. One of the most honoured turian warriors. But the moment his treachery was revealed, they couldn't wait to spit on his name and kick dust on his grave.

He was the enemy. He was the 'bad guy'. That's all they cared about. A turian turncoat.

It had been easier to hate Saren, than to understand him… Than to sympathise with him.

Than to mourn him.

Shepard had been mourned, she knew. She knew people had grieved over her death. And that her return was seen as a betrayal. Like she was now undeserving of such grief because she had deceived everyone in some malicious act to avoid taxes. Because all that mattered was their opinion of her. All that matters was how the public saw the hero. Not the hero themselves.

"_Shepard_!"

"_What_?" she glanced over her shoulder sharply.

Kelly seemed taken aback, but she soldiered on regardless, "I called your name three times now and you didn't answer."

"I was just thinking," Shepard sighed and spun herself around, bracing her boots on the step leading to the CIC. "Nothing for you to ask about, before you do."

Kelly got that 'I understand' look that chafed Shepard the wrong way. She didn't want Kelly to understand. She wanted her to mind her own business. She didn't need Cerberus crawling inside her head.

Immediately Shepard regretted the harsh thought. Kelly was Cerberus, yes, but she was a person that cared. She didn't join Cerberus because she wanted to promote humans over aliens. She joined because she wanted to help.

To make a difference.

Natalya had been like that, once…

"Listen, Kelly. I… I know you're here to make sure we're all okay, headspace wise, as we go forth into the unknown with a high chance of never turning around, but right now, I need you to be a yeoman. Not a councillor. Not a guidance… person. Not someone to look into my head and my heart and be all understanding. Because… because it's your job to care. And I don't really need that right now, okay? I just… don't."

Kelly eyed Shepard warily, before nodding, "Alright. But if you want to talk…"

"If I want to talk, Kelly, it won't be with you." The words were sharper than Shepard intended, but she didn't amend them. Pushing herself up, she stepped off the CIC platform and rubbed her neck. "Joker, let me know when we hit the next star system."

+_Will do, Commander_.+

She vanished into the elevator, leaving a concerned Kelly behind.

+_You going to put that in your report, Chambers_?+ Joker's voice was slightly challenging, but she let it slide. Tali'Zorah, Garrus and Joker were unrepentantly loyal to Shepard and undisguisedly suspicious of Cerberus. Even though Kelly tried to be a friend more than a Cerberus operative, the three of them had a deep distrust for everything that the organization put forward.

Knowing Shepard's history as Kelly did, it wasn't surprising that a Cerberus operative was the last person she wanted to talk to, but still, Kelly wanted to help. Not as a professional, but as a woman that saw someone damaged and hurting and potentially embarking on a one-way journey to self-destruction.

But Kelly could recognize that she was not the help needed to come from. She would never be as close to Shepard as others were. She was not a woman given to frivolous female friendships. She was a woman that you had to get to know through tragedy, patience and a shared life of violence.

There was only so much you could understand without sharing experiences.

"No, Joker, there is nothing to report. By the way, where is Garrus? And Thane?"

There was a long silence, before Joker's voice rang quietly again, +_If you're going to busybody…_+

"Please, Joker. Not only am I a professional, I'm a decent person. Give me some credit."

+_… Thane and Garrus are where they usually are._+

"Thank you." Kelly stepped back from her station and called the elevator from where it had last stopped, at Shepard's quarters.

**(/*\)**

_Sweat trickled between her breasts. It tickled. It tickled her and she wanted to wipe it away. But she knew if she took her hands off, it would be over. She'd never muster the courage again._

_It'd be over._

_It'd be over if she could just…_

_Sweat. Between her breasts. Down her back. On her temple._

Do it do it do it do it_._

_Cowardice._

_Cowardice to do it? Cowardice to stop?_

_Her leg bounced crazily as she tried to focus on what she was doing. Tried to focus on the moment. Don't hide from it. It was quiet and she was alone. Apartment. Barracks? Didn't know. Didn't care. Didn't matter._

Do it_._

_Just do it._

Do it!

_Fucking do it!_

JUST FUCKING DO IT_!_

Shepard's eyes snapped open again and she rolled onto her back. Shit. When had she fallen asleep? She had come to her cabin. Laid down and… was gone. Shit, why couldn't it be that easy when she was _supposed_ to get sleep?

+_Commander_?+

She sighed, "What?"

+_You wanted to be informed when we reached the next star system_? … _We… uh. Have_.+

"I'll be right down," she said, throwing her arm over her face.

+_No rush. You know. Take your time. Uh. Bye._+

Shit, now even Joker knew there was something wrong with her.

Pushing herself up, Shepard went to slide off the bed before she realized that, once again, her hand was on her pistol. She uncoiled her fingers carefully and withdrew them from under her pillow, working an ache out of her little finger. Her hand then moved to scratch behind her ear. She stilled with her nails against her flesh. Staring at nothing. Rolling her head on her neck, she moved her hand down and lifted a finger, pressing it to the side of her jaw, in the soft flesh, digging her nail deep.

_Do it do it do it do-_

"Bang," she whispered.

**(/*\)**


	2. Echoes Of A Distant Past

**Warning: **Game spoilers. Rated for Language. Shepard likes to swear.

**For those of you returning to this fiction**: I have not added any more chapters. I've simply edited and broken the existing fiction into a short work to make it easier to read.

**Last Edit**: 26/02/11

**Perdition**

Chapter Two

'_Echoes of a Distant Past'_

**(/*\)**

"I have detected an anomaly."

"Y'what?" Shepard lifted her head dazedly from where it had been slumped over the galaxy map. Mining for resources was _unbearably_ boring, so her mind tended to wander. It was easy to scan and fire when she heard the tone get frantic enough. A little 'Shootshootshoot!' in the readings that her mind sort of responded to with a lazy 'Yeah, whatever' and sent a probe rocketing to the pocket of minerals detected on the surface.

So when EDI's voice cut through Shepard's drooling mind-blank, she was somewhat startled.

"I have detected an anomaly, Shepard," repeated the AI with her infinite patience. Natalya was still unsure how she felt about that part of the AI. Sometimes it was reassuring to have her constant calm, because AI's couldn't panic, but when Shepard and her team were being fired on by Collectors after being sent into a goddamn trap by the Illusive Man and EDI wasn't speaking as fast as possible to tell them what to do, Shepard wanted to reach into the nearest consol and yank out some wires.

Being calm under fire was a good thing. Taking _forever_ to tell them how to get out of it was _not_.

Pulling herself to stand upright and ignoring the ache in her back, Shepard scanned the surface for what appeared to be the origin of a radio signal.

'…_information we got wasn't enough. Find another one. This time keep him alive until we find out if his info was even useful…_'

"Well, doesn't that sound ominously fun?" she muttered, scowling as something nudged the back of her cerebellum, a small iota of knowledge that she had filed away at some point in time wanting to resurface with inane helpfulness.

+_Wish I could go with ya, Shep, but I'm not that great in a firefight_.+

"Who says I'm going anywhere?" She moved the probe again. Platinum. Platinum. Platinum.

It was only then that Shepard became aware of Kelly's absence, her eyes tracking over her shoulder. She had just insinuated that she might not be going off to do the latest daring do and killing the latest band of unscrupulous bad guys and Kelly's eyes weren't boring between her shoulderblades.

_Where… the hell is she?_

Probably off being feely-feely with some of the crew. But Shepard couldn't recall the last time she stood at the CIC for any period of time without Chambers at least making an appearance.

… Not that she was complaining! Of course not, because going about her business without Moral Choice Maker Chambers was a good thing.

It was just… _weird_.

"Shepard."

Euuugh. EDI.

"I have run through some of the Cerberus files. This planet may be a stronghold for mercenary groups that have been making raids on Cerberus scientific facilities. They have killed and captured many Cerberus operatives." There was a pause. "The Illusive Man wishes to speak to you."

"Euuugh." Shepard's head sagged. "Does that guy _live_ in his fucking chair?"

Pushing herself up with an expression of disgust, she stepped back and off the CIC. Rubbing one eye, she turned and headed through the labs, waving to Mordin as she passed, and headed into the communications room. Mordin was easier to pass because he rarely tore himself away from his work. Jacob, on the other hand, might want to extend his concern to his commanding officer and _talk_.

She really, really, did _not_ need to talk right now.

"Shepard," came the greeting of the Illusive Man.

"Hi," she said. "How are you? You know smoking is bad for you, right? I'm pretty sure we _still_ don't know how to cure cancer."

He stopped halfway through a draw on the cigarette, staring at her pleasant expression. Then he removed it from his mouth and exhaled through his nose, smoke rising in a screen before his face.

"EDI informed me that the planet you're over might be a base of operations for some mercenaries that have been hounding Cerberus operations."

"I heard," murmured Shepard. "Do I get to deliver the medals personally, or am I just overseeing the ceremony?"

The unflappable Illusive Man merely drew again on his cigarette, letting her stand there, staring at him. Waiting for him to be ready to talk. Reminding her that he held more cards than he did. Which was fine with her. Eventually, the information he had, she would also have, and then he would be left holding a cigarette, and she would have her pick between the weapons she had slung on her back. She had taken a fancy to the missile launcher. Somehow, when she put a round between his eyes, a smoking crater where his neck once was seemed a little more reassuring than a small red hole.

Whenever she looked into those eyes, she felt that if she ever killed him, she need to be _damn sure_ he was dead. More than the usual 'just so it won't get up again', but more a 'stake to the heart, cut off the head, put garlic in the mouth, burn the body and scatter the ashes over running water' method of being sure. No Lazarus project for the Illusive Man. No way.

That was, if he even needed the Lazarus project to come back. A man that had the capacity to bring someone back from the dead would likely have applied such things to himself, first. The Illusive Man didn't seem to be the power-starved monster that wanted to live forever, but he also didn't seem the type to trust anyone else manning the helm of the Cerberus bandwagon.

"You've been very productive in eliminating threats so far, Shepard. I would appreciate it if you would apply your… diplomatic skills to this situation."

"The last time someone asked that of me," she said, folding her arms over her chest, "I massacred a room of space pirates."

"Exactly."

Silence stretched between them as the Illusive Man tapped his cigarette against the ash tray beside him, removing the obscuring grey end and revealing the glowing cherry, fresh and bright.

"You do realize that I want to _congratulate_ these men, rather than kill them, right?"

"You've made no pains about hiding your dislike for Cerberus, Shepard."

_Dislike_ was putting it mildly. Shepard had been disappointed when the Illusive Man had hidden behind a quantum whatchamacallit communication rather than meet her face to face. Back then, she had just been happy with that small, red hole. In fact, his precaution was probably the only reason he was still alive.

_Especially_ after throwing them to the Collectors, the back-stabbing, betraying sonofabitch.

A scowl fluttered over her brow as she remembered her dream. Yeah. Like she could lecture anyone on betrayal.

"But I need to remind you that your crew are, in fact, Cereberus personnel. And even though you dislike us, I am sure you don't feel the same for them."

Shepard's lips pursed. No, she did not. She doubted Gabby or Ken would have condoned the experiments using rachni or the Thorian creepers. She doubted Rupert would have approved of what happened to her on Akuze. She knew Kelly would definitely not have done a single thing to hurt a single hair, fringe or tentacle on another being. She liked aliens. Joining Cerberus just meant she wanted to help humanity.

Yeah, but when push came to shove and mankind was putting the boot on the extraterrestrials because of Cerberus, she wondered how Kelly would feel then…

No, she didn't hate her crew. Not one of them. Not from Joker's asinine and often unwelcome comments, to the AI that had a habit of making Shepard want to knock heads, to Chambers' constant concern, to the baby krogan that killed a _thresher maw_ for his version of a sweet sixteen, to the nut-job that was squatting on the sub-decks. She had more than once been willing to compromise herself for the good of her crew. More than willing to lay down her life and forget her moral integrity for them.

The asshole smoking his fucking cigarette in front of her knew it, too.

Screw the missile to the forehead. She was going to set him on _fire_.

"If these men encounter you, or the _Normandy_ on a mission when you're planetside, or otherwise occupied, do you think they will hesitate in capturing or killing you or your crew? They're not discerning, Shepard. Every facility they've hit, every single Cerberus employee, from scientist to janitor, has been killed or captured and likely tortured for information. If for no other reason, do it to make sure that no Cerberus employed cleaner or cook is needlessly butchered. Do it to protect your crew."

Shepard's face remained closed and hostile.

"At least talk them out of butchering everyone they come across wearing the Cerberus insignia," said the Illusive Man, shifting his way of sitting slightly. "Otherwise you'll leave this world, and everyone they kill afterwards, will be on your shoulders."

Those shoulders tensed as her eyes narrowed darkly, staring pure hate at the Illusive Man.

"You and I both know the cost of putting emotion before duty."

"This is _not_ my duty."

"You have a duty to protect the defenceless. Maybe not Cerberus operatives like Jacob or Miranda, but people like the Normandy's cook. Doctor Chakwas. Kelly." The Illusive Man brought his cigarette to his face. "You've already proven how far you'll go when you died to get Joker into an escape pod."

"It's not about that," she snapped. "This isn't about my duty! This is about _Cerberus_."

"This is about your pride."

Shepard's head snapped back in shock like the Illusive Man had punched her in the face. Which he had.

"Your refusal to go down there, to stop them, has nothing to do with your mission, your crew, what those mercs are doing or who they have killed. Well, nothing beyond being contributing factors to your pride. Your ego." He held up his hand. "I am not saying your are egotistical, but more your sense of self, your sense of… moral integrity. Look deep inside you, Shepard, and realize this. Look deep inside and figure out why you're reluctant to go down there and stop them."

Natalya clenched her fists, stepping forward, before exhaling slowly. Her jaw worked as she silently acquiesced that he was right. Her head dipped slightly as she stared at the ground, shame and rage warring for supremacy in her heart. As they battled back and forth, the Illusive man seized on her indecision.

"Because, deep down, you fear that you are, indeed, working with Cerberus. Even though you defend yourself from others, what they accuse you of, you accuse yourself." He tapped out his cigarette, ridding it of the excess ash. "You can't let yourself think those things, Shepard. There is more at stake than that. The future cannot be sacrificed because you cannot let the past go."

"Let the p-" Her head flew up and rage won out as she stepped forward, both fists rising in an ineffective gesture of rage.

The Illusive Man held up his hand, "What I am saying, Shepard, what I am asking, is whether the memory of the dead is worth the lives of those not yet gone." He looked at her as he snuffed out his cigarette, the light of it fading away. "Is your hatred of Ceberus so great that you would allow yourself to live through merciless mercenaries, to allow those mercenaries to live, rather than lift a finger to do something that helps Cerberus? And I am not asking you because you owe us, Shepard. I am just asking. Stop them."

Shepard's shoulders slumped, before she made a strangled sound of anger, punching the air before her angrily.

"Yes, dammit. Yes. I would have gone anyway. I would have gone down and stopped them. Fuck." She spun away. "So I'm just going to pretend that this ends with a 'Thank you, Shepard', and take what I can."

Just before she stepped out of the communication circle, she heard a quiet, "Thank you, Shepard," from behind her.

_Sonofabitch_.

**(/*\)**

Shepard raked her hands down her face as she stepped into the elevator to head to the lower decks. She already knew who she was going to take with her. Or, rather who she wasn't.

Grunt was going to be beating his head against the wall in sheer frustration, so he wasn't an option. He could follow orders, but at that moment he just needed to _kill_ things, and in the event that negotiation was on the table, he would probably just start shooting anyway.

Samara would follow Shepard's word, but she knew that if she and Samara had met under different circumstances, one of them would have been dead. Shepard was not just. Not at all. Also, Samara's Code chafed on Shepard somewhat, and she didn't need the imperial justicar looking over her shoulder at her time of greatest emotional and moral instability.

She would have taken Mordin, but she was afraid that if he pulled out a scientific 'Ends justify the means' speech, she'd spontaneously shoot him in the face. She liked him. She did. But her past meant that his opinion of the genophage made her want to break things. But he didn't seem the egomaniacal horror that the Illusive Man was, and Shepard was very much open to hearing more about his opinions. Just… not now.

Jack was… a representation of who Shepard could be if she let herself go. A bundle of hate and violence directed at everything and nothing. She was Shepard without Shepard's rigid control, without her desire to help others, her need to justify herself and her tragedy through the soldier she had originally intended to be. It was terrifying to look at Jack's eerily beautiful face and see herself staring back. But Jack couldn't be trusted. Oh, she could be trusted to kill everything in sight, but when it came to diplomacy and negotiation, she was about as reliable as Grunt. Besides, Shepard was rather sure that the woman's mutual hatred for Cerberus would be counterproductive to the mission's goal.

Hell, Jack might jump ship and join up with the mercs and as much as Shepard hated to admit it, she rather needed Jack to do something suicidal _for_ her, rather than against her.

Tali, Tali who Shepard loved and adored as a friend and a sister, was still reeling from her father's death. She needed more time. The quarian insisted she was fit for duty, but Shepard knew she wasn't. She knew she was still grieving. She didn't need Kelly to tell her that. Tali couldn't come. Shepard would have loved to have her at her back, one of the few people who knew about what had happened, but she just couldn't. Not yet.

She could have taken Jacob. The man was a Cerberus operative, but he didn't like Cerberus. He was with Cerberus because of what they hoped to do, and what the Alliance had failed to do, but he made it clear that he did not like their methods. Or the Illusive Man. His honesty about it all made Shepard overlook his connections to the organization, but right now she didn't need anyone that had one iota of loyalty to Cerberus.

She probably didn't want to bring anyone that had a Cerberus tag on their chest, either.

Both of those reasons automatically meant Miranda was a firm no. Which she was anyway. Miranda would never, ever be on her team. Shepard had gotten to know Miranda, had understood more of her and who she was. Her sister had been a deep source of sympathy for Shepard, showing a glimpse of an actual human behind that genetically engineered superiority complex. But her fanatical worship of Cerberus, its methods and its goals, made her seem like an Illusive Man carbon copy. Her persistent reiteration about how Cerberus was only doing everything for the good of humanity wasn't helping, either. Shepard had never really been that great a fan of mankind, anyway, and it was good to be all 'noble intentions' when you weren't on the receiving end.

Natalya had been.

She had only taken Miranda with her to recruit Archangel, who she had intended to replace Miranda with as soon as possible, regardless of who he had been. The fact that he had been Garrus had been a small boon in a galaxy of curses and nightmares. Garrus, who was her best friend. Garrus who was her constant source of reassurance and strength, both in battle and out of it.

He had been adrift when he had accompanied her to find Saren, full of righteous fury and indignation, idealistically wanting to change the universe. But he had also been reliable, trustworthy and willing to learn. His mind was open to Shepard's influence, back when she had been a better person. She possibly allowed her experiences as being 'collateral damage' to influence her lessons over Garrus, but once again, it was easy to do something when you weren't on the receiving end.

Fighting Saren had been easy.

Now… things were not so simple.

Now he was even more adrift, lost in the storm of his own survivor's guilt and burning need for vengeance, something Natalya knew well. He was a more efficient warrior, more skilled in battle, but he had yet to find himself. He seemed to latch on to whatever thing that came his way, be it Omega, or Shepard. He had been resigned to death when she had pulled him from the fire at the last moment, but ironically she simply asked him to postpone potential suicide and accompany her into the mouth of hell. Though he was wholly loyal to her cause and had thrown himself into it, it was more opportunity than his will that drove him in any particular direction, including hers. He had no drive. No goal. Dealing with Sidonis had allowed him to tie up loose ends and put his soul at ease, but he was still adrift. Beyond the current mission, he had nothing.

But now Natalya was afraid that she had nothing left to teach him. At all.

When it came to vengeance, she was as lost as he. Perhaps more so.

Did she have any right to lecture him about Sidonis, after what had happened between her and Cerberus? Did she have any right to deny him his vengeance when her soul screamed for hers? Would she be the worst kind of hypocrite, after talking him out of killing Sidonis, when she had killed every Cerberus executive that she had come across? When she wanted to do the exact same thing to the Illusive Man?

When she yet might?

She could only hope that she had managed to put his need for vengeance to rest. He had his scars to remind him of what he survived, and maybe he would regret that he never got to take his vengeance on Sidonis. But she knew, just _knew_, that if he had taken it, he would have only descended into a darker place, full of hate and volence.

She hadn't stopped him from killing Sidonis to protect Sidonis.

She had done it for _Garrus_. She didn't give a shit about Sidonis other than the fact that killing him would have been an act of mercy, as far as she was concerned. But Garrus… it would have destroyed the turian that Garrus was to pull that trigger, and turned him into…

It would have turned him into Natalya.

Or, worse, it would have turned him into Saren.

Maybe not with the whole 'vanguard of their demise' thing happening. But he would have been the same twisted mass of hate that Saren was. But instead of focusing on humanity, he would have focused on criminals. He had confused his burning desire for vengeance with justice, and when one's sense of justice got warped, everything went the exact same way.

Besids, when it came down to it, the only thing that kept Shepard from being the kind of people that he killed, was his perspective. Not her Spectre status. Not her N7 training. Not her service in the Alliance or her mission.

Just his perspective.

And his perspective meant more to her than he would ever know.

The door to Garrus' little hidey hole hissed open and he glanced over his shoulder.

"Shepard, I was about to-"

Natalya closed the door behind her, the sound cutting Garrus off. He turned slowly, staring at her silently. He knew her so well. So well. He knew she was sorting things out in her head. Sorting out what to say to him. He knew when to be the silent listener, the soldier. He was under her command, but by choice. He could leave any time he wanted, but now he _wanted_ to stay. She needed that.

She needed him.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked finally, offering her an out.

"No. No. No of course not."

Garrus always came with her whenever she left the ship. Always. Keeping him behind wasn't an option. She fought perfectly with him, like they were one person. He had always come with her when they left the ship on the first Normandy. From Noveria to Ilos, he had been there. At first Ashley had been on the team, but when she had discovered Wrex's strength in combat, the team that was spearheading the hunt for Saren had consisted of only one human.

Now… with Saren gone, she still took Garrus with her. She always took Garrus with her. Always. He was there at her back constantly. At her side. They fought as one. Working in perfect tandem. It had been hard to find someone that could work with them. Tali could, but she was not cut for the hard combat that they were now encountering. It wasn't geth anymore. It was people. People with varying techniques and ways of fighting that Tali just wasn't prepared for. She was a fighter, yes, but she wasn't a killer.

Shepard was a killer.

Garrus was a killer.

They were soldiers in that Shepard could give orders and Garrus could take them. They could function as a team and they could function autonomously. But there was something else that Garrus and Shepard both shared, something that people often overlooked.

They were capable of ruthlessness.

Tali was merciful. She wouldn't look at a merc and see someone that would shoot her in the back. She'd see someone begging for their lives. Garrus wouldn't. Shepard wouldn't.

They were killers. They could kill a hundred men and sleep at night.

It was what they were. It was what they were good at.

Macabre as that was.

She needed Garrus now more than ever. Surrounded by people of questionable motives and morals, she needed Garrus. He was the only one she could truly trust with her back without thinking.

"Two years ago," she began, "we butchered every Cerberus operative we found. The… men on this planet are doing the same thing, Garrus. The exact same thing that we did. You and I and Wrex. But now I… I have to go down and stop them. I'm not entirely sure why I have to do it. Not because the Illusive Man told me. Not because of what they're doing. There is just… something that tells me I _have_ to. But I…" She closed her eyes. "I'm supposed to talk them out of it. I'm supposed to…" She lowered her head and put one hand to her eye. "But a part of me knows I won't be able to. Because I know that I couldn't have talked me out of it, back then. Which means I… I might have to kill them."

Garrus remained silent as she spoke, his claws moving slightly, in a way they did when he was thinking, or holding himself back. A tell she had noticed, and was watching now.

"I just need to know that… that you'll be okay with that. If we go down there… if we have to kill them to stop them. I need to know you won't hate me for… that you won't think I'm some kind of Cerberus lackey. Because I'm not…"

"Shepard. Stop." Garrus reached out and clasped Natalya's arms, squeezing them. When she looked up at him, he simply shook his head. "You don't have to worry about me, alright?"

Shepard closed her eyes tightly and reached up, wrapping her fingers around Garrus' wrist. Nodding, she whispered, "Thank you."

"Any time."

Natalya stepped back and nodded again. He was her best friend in the whole, fucked up universe. Kaiden was gone. Liara was gone. Tali was a friend, but she just wasn't what Garrus was. Friendship could bind people together, but only tragedy, and terror, and a moment where you stood on the precipice of death, could make a bond as strong as she had with Garrus. She wasn't his teacher anymore. She definitely wasn't his commander. She was his friend. And she knew then that she needed him more than he needed her.

The first human Spectre, BFF with a rebel turian. Someone out there must have been in stitches…

"Thanks." She stepped back and turned away, head up. "I'm going to go get Thane, but you can suit up and head to the _Kodiak_ first."

Garrus and Shepard left the room together, heading towards the elevator in silence. Rupert made a mention about dinner, and Garrus nodded his assent, but he wasn't really listening. When they passed the elevator, she stopped and watched him back in slowly.

"Don't worry, Shepard. It'll be fine."

She smiled back, but it was half-hearted and the door closed before anything else could transpire. As the elevator carried him up to the armoury, Garrus closed his eyes and rested his head fringe back against the damaged ridge of his armour.

"I can't believe Kelly was right…"

**(/*\)**

Shepard watched the elevator for a moment, sighing, before turning towards Life Support.

Garrus was a killer.

Shepard was a killer.

Thane was a killer.

Two snipers and a woman with a head thicker than her armour. A team. Thane had slotted himself easily into their triangle of combat function and he had been a part of them ever since. But after he had formed the final point for Shepard and Garrus, he had formed something else for Shepard herself. His unveiling of his vulnerability had allowed her to see more of him than she expected.

For some reason, when he confessed things quietly to her, when he reached out to her, she wanted to reach back. Even though Thane was a killer, he was pure. He was… good. She had wanted to hug Garrus and whisper 'It'll be alright', but Thane was the only one she wanted to do that to her. When she first realized that, she balked and fled from him, leaving him confused as to why his confession of religion would cause her to leave so quickly. She still did not have the guts to tell him the truth, but the truth was she didn't even know what to tell him. What was she feeling for him? Was it the same thing she had felt for Kaiden? Would it simply end the same way; in disaster?

Kaiden had been lust and circumstance and opportunity. But there was never anything there, not really. He just… hadn't been the one for Natalya. He was a man without complications. Cut and dry, black and white, good and bad. That didn't fit in her world. He was unsure of himself and of what they had had, so much so that she had practically had to caveman him into bed. Shepard might have been a strong woman, but she was still a woman. She wanted to feel like a woman. Kaiden hadn't let her feel that.

Kaiden couldn't be 'there for her'. She had so much weight on her shoulders, which meant that anyone that she leant on had to be able to deal with it. Kaiden had shown her on Horizon that he couldn't. His lack of faith in her, his lack of a willingness to hear, was the final bit of proof to show her that he was not what she wanted. Not what she needed.

More than that, however, more than the glaring incompatibility, was that Kaiden hadn't known the depths of the darkness that was inside Shepard's soul. She knew he would never have accepted the things she felt and thought just as her being her. He would try and fix her, because she was wrong.

Thane… Everything she had shown Thane, he had accepted as a part of her. He hadn't tried to change her. He had just… been there. When she had killed someone in cold blood. When she had punched his son. When she had snapped and brought a gun to someone's face. Thane had never been judgmental about it. When they disagreed, he accepted that. When she broke, he accepted that, too.

Garrus was loyal to her because of what they shared. The soldier bond. Thane was different.

She trusted Garrus with her back.

But she trusted Thane with…

Ugh. This was _not_ the time to be thinking about stuff like that. Realizing she had been standing in front of the door to Life Support like an idiot for several minutes, she galvanized herself into action. Before she could even lift her hand, though, the door to Life Support opened and Kelly stood there, blinking up at Shepard.

Shepard blinked back, uselessly. "Uh…"

Behind her, Thane slowly stood from where he was sitting at his table, cleaning a sniper rifle. "_Siha_." That phrase, in his rolling timbre, made her shiver as it always did. But then he laced his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. _Kid caught in the cookie jar_? _No. Thane isn't like that. Stop thinking like that. He's standing how he always would._

Shepard stepped back, her brain sort of fizzling out like those candies when dropped into carbonated drinks. "I…" Something settled, hot and unwelcome, in her chest. Jealousy? No. She had nothing to be jealous of. Insecurity? God, she really didn't need any more of that. Unable to put a name to it, she just stood there stupidly, looking at Thane, then at Kelly.

Kelly flashed her a smile. "Did you need me for something, Commander? Thane and I were just talking about life on Kahje."

Shepard's eyes closed as she realized this strange feeling inside of her was envy. Jealousy, sure, insecurity in spades, but envy and bitterness were the names she could slap on that unfriendly ball in her gut. Kelly was bright and happy with eyes like new spring growth, which Thane could compare to eyes like sunset. Whereas Natalya's were violet, but only in the way that they weren't quite blue and weren't quite grey. They weren't even purple, really. They just weren't any other colour.

She dipped her head and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Thane… Uh. No. I need Thane. I mean. I want to…" Sighing, she tipped her head back, closed her eyes and waved ineffectively behind her. "Suit up and meet me at the _Kodiak_, Thane."

Then she backed up, pivoted and walked towards the elevator in silence.

Kelly blinked, once, before looking over her shoulder at Thane, who was staring into the empty doorway like he still expected Shepard to say something more, even though she was gone. Finally the drell turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable.

"Do you think she knew you were lying?"

Kelly smiled. "Of course."

Thane stared at Kelly for a moment longer, before he said quietly, "I think it would have been better if she had told me what you did."

Kelly tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "So do I, Thane. But I don't think we have the luxury of waiting, anymore. Shepard needs your support more than she needs her pride."

Then she turned and walked from Life Support, leaving Thane alone with everything that had just transpired, his mind fading into mere moments before when…

…_the doors to Life Support open and I turn, seeing no Natalya as I had both hoped and expected, but instead the yeoman, Kelly Chambers. Her eyes are grave and it alarms me._

"_We need to talk," she says._

"_What about?" I ask._

"_Shepard."_

"_In regards to what?"_

_Chambers crosses to Shepard's chair and sits in it. I do not know how to feel about that. She splays her hands on the table._

"_She's_-"

Thane wrenched himself out of the memory, breathing hard. Putting one hand to his head, he stared at the weapons rack, steadying himself, as his heart ached within his chest. His assumption of Natalya Shepard had been entirely wrong. She was a woman that needed to be saved, and she needed to be saved from herself.

But who had the strength to save her from someone that not even a god could slay?

**(/*\)**


	3. Blood In The Water

**Warning: **Game spoilers. Rated for Language. Shepard likes to swear.

**For those of you returning to this fiction**: I have not added any more chapters. I've simply edited and broken the existing fiction into a short work to make it easier to read.

**Last Edit**: 26/02/11

**(/*\)**

**Perdition**

Chapter Three

_Blood In The Water_

**(/*\)**

Natalya's knee bounced when she was anxious. Whenever she became aware of it, it stopped, but the moment her mind strayed it kicked up again.

Her face was turned away from Thane as she stared out of the window of the _Kodiak_ as it flew through the sky after entering the world's atmosphere. The treetops beneath of it were little more than green blurs of varying hues. Thane was checking his machine pistol one last time, making sure that everything was functioning properly and ensuring there would be no last-minute malfunctions that could tip the scale between life or death. Garrus had his sniper rifle between his legs, the butt resting against the floor of the transport and the barrel pointed at the roof. His head was directed at the floor, but his eyes would occasionally drift to Shepard. She could _feel_ his eyes. Thane didn't look at her directly, but it was like he had eyes elsewhere. He might have been working on his machine pistol, as he always did, but his attention was on her.

She locked her jaw, stopped her knee and closed her eyes. She knew their concern was justified. She knew she had given them a reason to worry. Garrus more than Thane, but they both had reason to. She wasn't angry about that.

She was angry that they actually _did_ have a reason to worry, and the reason they had to worry wasn't exactly the one they knew about.

Shepard… Shepard was doubting herself. She knew it. She knew such a truth when it stared her in the face. She was doubting her capabilities as a soldier. Doubting her decisions as a leader. Doubting her role in all of this.

More than her doubt about her capabilities, however, were her doubts about herself. About her and Thane. Her mind. Her heart. The stability of her soul. Could she love a man that was going to die?

Could he love a woman that was already dead?

No. She couldn't do this! They were heading towards almost certain death, impossible odds, an unstoppable foe, the unknown, etcetera etcetera ad nauseum. Her team needed her to be strong if they had even a chance to make it through it.

But how could they hope to survive if their leader wasn't sure she _wanted_ to?

Suddenly, in the distance, she caught a flash of something and sat up straighter. Garrus lifted his head and Thane's hands stopped moving in response to her sudden shift of position. Leaning forward, Shepard squinted through the window, using the small sighting assist over her eye to zoom in.

"F-" was all she got out before the Kodiak's VI warned for them to brace, and banked the _Kodiak_ to the left.

Thane flung out his hand and braced it against the window near Shepard's head, stopping him from landing on her completely. Garrus was not so quick and he went sprawling against the side of the _Kodiak_. Shepard, too, slammed back into the wall, her boots digging in to find purchase.

"Anti-aircraft artillery?" said Garrus quietly. "Someone is well funded."

"I suppose it is safe to assume that they are hostile," murmured Thane, righting himself carefully and helping Shepard to sit up rather than be sprawled inelegantly – and intimately – under him.

"They are _relatively_ anti-Cerberus," she said, shaking her head to clear it. "And we are in a vehicle with a nice, big Cerberus logo painted on the side." Shepard made a fish sizing gesture with her hands to emphasise her point.

"That's it," Garrus threw up his hands. "We're painting this whole damn thing black when we get back to the _Normandy_."

"Not blue?" chuckled Shepard before the VI gave another warning.

This time the _Kodiak_ decelerated sharply and dipped its nose, causing Thane and Shepard to slide off the seat and onto the floor. Garrus lifted his legs so they didn't impact against his hard knees, peering down at her as Shepard tried to remove the weight of her body from her face. She _would_ have to sprawl down with her ass in the air whilst Thane managed to catch himself almost on his feet, throwing out one hand to stop himself from going any further.

"I would very much like to be able to shoot back," the turian snapped at Shepard.

"I'll get right on that, Garrus." She pushed herself up, crawling to the door between the seating area and the pilots. "Find us a landing area! We'll proceed on foot!"

"I knew you could deliver, Commander."

"I've already been shot out of the sky once. I like shooting back at the people trying to kill me." Even if she agreed with everything else they were trying to do.

**(/*\)**

The facility wasn't on a mountain.

It was _in_ a mountain.

Garrus had pointed out the lack of wisdom of entering into a heavily armoured _underground_ facility with heavily armed mercenaries all over the place. But had amended that he would take people that took cover over an endless stream of husks any day.

Remembering the abandoned mine gave Shepard chills.

Currently, she was sitting on the floor, sorting through some thermal clips she had picked up, tossing the ones that couldn't be used and shaking the ones with a decent amount left into the various ammunition pouches on her body. She was also under heavy fire, with Thane and Garrus picking off people with their sniper rifles, but she simply ignored the rounds zinging past her head.

"We just want to talk!" She had said that line about thirty times already, and the responses, though varied in content, were relatively identical in meaning. She tapped a thermal clip, judged its heat load too low to be of use, and tossed it aside.

"We have nothing to say to Cerberus dogs!"

+_They seem to like that one the most_,+ came Garrus' voice in her ear.

"I wonder if I'm the only one that notes the weirdness of that statement," she dropped her assault rifle on the crate above her head and sprayed the area behind her with fire. When the mercs stopped shooting, she vaulted up and over her cover and slid to the ground behind some other crates, crouching on her feet. "Well, negotiations are going well. I suppose we can just kill our way to the man in charge and have a nice chat then."

+_That would be how negotiations normally go_,+ there was a small smile in Thane's voice, though she knew there wouldn't be one on his face.

+_And then they make some sort of final, defiant statement and go for their gun. At which point they just die and we blow the place anyway._+

"Well it's worked so far." Shepard popped out and took down two mercs, sliding her backside over her cover and keeping them down so Thane and Garrus could advance. Shepard's shields were impressive, with an enhancement that meant she could weather a lot of damage to her armour before she was forced to duck down and wait for her kinetic barriers to come back. Thanks to Cerberus, she also healed much faster than any natural human and often medigel wasn't needed unless she was seriously wounded.

Seriously being catching a rocket with her breasts. But that had only happened once.

Those that worked with her quickly learned the blunt-force-trauma tactics that Shepard adopted. She was almost a krogan when it came to combat. Not so much the charging headlong into battle with a shotgun – which were useless at range – but more standing there and weathering frightening amounts of fire. With her resurrection and 'improvements', she had only grown more daring and resilient, something that Garrus had quickly learned when she had come to save him from the mercs. She had deliberately taken a lot of fire on her hunt for Saren, but what he had seen in that apartment in Omega had been astonishing.

Whilst he could only pop up now and again and snipe one, maybe two, before dipping back down, Shepard had braced herself on one knee, shouldered her sniper rifle and picked off one, maybe two before they sighted her. Then she would pick off three more as the area around her was decimated with fire. She would keep going until her kinetic shields were almost gone, before ducking down, popping her heat sink, waiting until the barrier came back to full power and going back to unloading on mercs.

Sometimes she didn't even wait for her barrier.

Her true determination had been shown when she had ordered Miranda and Jacob to remain behind as she unholstered her assault rifle, charging down the stairs. Loading up incendiary rounds, she had made the massive YMIR mech concentrate on her whilst the other three fired on it from above. Even though it had turned on the Eclipse mercs and they had been forced to fire on it, its armour had remained intact even after the death of Jaroth, meaning that Shepard had taken a _lot_ of damage before it had fallen.

She had limped back to Garrus' side with a grin on her face, regardless, slapping a medigel patch-job through her hardsuit's medical interface.

But Garrus had several months with Shepard to get used to her fighting techniques and then another after her resurrection to acclimate to her changes. Thane had nearly had an apoplexy when she first did it with him. Oh, he had seen her now and again when going after Nassana, but he had his own task to concentrate on. He needed to get to Nassana first. He didn't have the luxury of watching who he then thought to be a competitor for the contract. If he had to fight her, so be it. He already knew he would lose. But he couldn't let her take his pride as an assassin.

His first real time in battle with Shepard, aside from the occasional merc band or planet showing an anomaly, was on the Collector vessel. When recruiting Samara he noted that she had a habit of darting ahead and taking the fire of the enemy whilst Garrus set up a sniping position. Thane either could do the same, or move around to flank the enemy, using his stealth and speed to catch them outside of their cover and cut them down from the side.

But on the Collector vessel, pinned down by the possessed Collector commander and a hoard of insectoid drones, she had shown him the full extent of her recklessness and selflessness. He scouted ahead quickly, Garrus and Shepard focusing on scooping up heat sinks and discarding used ones. Collectors bursting through glass panels caught him by surprise and he had dove for cover. Cover that was far separated from Shepard and Garrus. Even though all three of them opened fire, the Collectors focused on the isolated squad member, intending to put him down first. Shepard, seeing this, promptly left her cover. Thane could only watch as she slid over the cover that a Collector was using, punched it in the head, shot it at her feet and then opened fire on the other Collectors. She remained standing even as they all focused on her, with Harbinger booming for them to save her body if possible.

Thane was stunned for a moment, staring at her back, before realizing that she was giving him a chance to get back to the team. A chance he did not waste. Garrus was doing his usual job of sniping from behind Shepard and the two of them moved up to her side as quickly as possible.

Her shields was completely depleted by the time they dropped beside her. Her armour was been scratched and beaten from where the Collector weapons had struck her. There was a deep burn on her shoulder where a Collector beam weapon had grazed her before Thane and Garrus had both taken him out. There were several holes directly in her armour that would definitely have reached her body. But she turned her Death Mask to Thane and asked, breathlessly, if he was alright. She also apologized for letting him get caught like that. She then slapped his shoulder and laughed. _Laughed_. Thane gaped at her, thankful that his mask hid his shock. Garrus and Shepard simply resumed firing once Shepard's kinetic barriers had come back up.

Garrus explained later that Shepard's experience with physical pain was extensive enough that she could deal with almost anything and continue functioning, but emotional pain, like losing a squad member, left her crippled in a way that no weapon could ever achieve. She would rather be riddled with bullets than let Thane get hit even once. Even Wrex – a krogan warlord as old as dirt – had been protected by Shepard, much to the krogan's amusement. There was nothing they could do about it. It was just how she was.

Thane had taken the lesson about Shepard's strategies to heart. The woman was living cover, and she preferred it that way. Shepard had joked –

"_Your coat is stylish, Thane, but it's not very protective." She grins and flips one of the sniper rifles around and puts it back on the rack. "Besides. I owe you for making you go up against guards and mercs rather than sneaking around in vents._"

_I smile and tilt my head, gesturing towards her. "I could show you how to sneak around in vents, Shepard."_

_She loses her smile instantly. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't do the assassination thing. Nothing against it, of course." She adds the last, as if afraid to offend me. I am not offended, but her next words intrigue me. "I refer a straight up fight. I prefer them having a chance to defend themselves_."

_I tilt my head in response to her words. "Even if it means that you lose a critical advantage?"_

_She looks back at me and her eyes are dark with something sombre. "Even if it means I will die. Everyone should have a chance to defend themselves from death. Everyone should have a chance to fight for their life."_

_For the first time in my life… I believe I feel a pang of guilt for my life as an assassin…_

Thane shook his head and returned to the present, brows furrowed. It had been a strange moment to realize that Natalya Shepard would rather die in a fair fight than live because of subterfuge. She never criticized him for his life as an assassin, of course. She was not like that. She was a woman that firmly believed in choice, her own and those of others. But the knowledge of her resolve had been there nonetheless. It was something that would have a reason, he knew that, but what it was he had no idea. He simply trusted that he would either figure it out, or Natalya would tell him at some point. When she was ready. An assassin learned a lot of things simply by being patient. By being invisible. Natalya let a lot of things slip when she didn't intend to. For instance, despite her short temper, Natalya was actually a good person. She just liked to get things _done._

Natalya might be a woman that revelled in combat, but something about her made him think that it was because combat was straight forward. When the bullets were flying from one end or the other, it was kill or be killed. There was the enemy, and there was survival. It was clean cut and simple.

Thane already knew when it came to morality, choice and consequences and the lesser of two evils, Natalya could struggle. Oh, she would make a snap decision but from what he knew, Natalya Shepard did not believe in right or wrong, because everything was wrong in some way. Unlike he, who accepted that he could not change what happened, and that there was no point in dwelling, Natalya would tear herself apart.

Thane wished he could reach out and take those unnecessary burdens from her. Either set them aside, or keep them for himself, where they couldn't hurt her. She was someone that everyone looked up to, a hero, a saviour. The judgements of others were always directed on her. She didn't need the harshest judge – herself – to be making her doubt everything she did. She needed to be strong. Not for anyone else, but for herself.

The problem was, however, that Natalya had spent so much time standing on her own two feet that Thane was worried she didn't know how to lean on anyone. That she didn't know how to share burdens.

Maybe she didn't want to.

But she needed to. She had to. The stronger the metal, the less it would bend. Natalya Shepard was not a woman that bent.

She broke. Shattered. Into a thousand pieces. Too many to be repaired.

Thane wanted to be sure that never happened to his _siha_.

**(/*\)**

Shepard jogged close to some cover and reached around it. Her fingers found the neck of a merc's armour, dragging him out of cover and slamming him into the crates next to her. Pressing her assault rifle to his chest, she fired a small burst point blank that had blood spraying from his mouth. Tossing him aside, she dipped her torso out of cover and fired again, until Thane and Garrus slid into cover at her peripheral vision.

It was how they functioned. Shepard would push forward and Thane and Garrus would pick off people that targeted her. Then she would keep them down as they caught up. She often came out of battle scuffed, scraped and injured, but at least she came out.

At least they came out.

She knew she was asking them to go to their deaths when they went through the Omega 4 relay. She knew someone would not be coming back. It could be any of them. It could be her. But the least she could do was not get them killed before they even got to the red-hazed relay of doom.

That, she could do.

Shepard lifted her fingers and indicated to Garrus that she was about to cross in front of him, towards some crates that were stacked up like steps. He nodded and lifted his rifle. Thane unclipped his machine pistol giving them both cover as they shifted as one. Shepard darted forward as Garrus slid to the side and got to a higher vantage point. She leaped up onto the crates, sliding along on one knee, before spinning to present her side to the cover. Pushing off with one toe, she rolled onto her back on the cover, then popped up over the last level and brought up her gun. She fired again and again in small bursts, Garrus and Thane joining her, before lowering her weapon. No one shot at her, which was her test to see if anyone was still functioning. A reckless test, but it worked.

Garrus stepped out of cover and glanced around, before nodding to Thane, who stood up, keeping his machine pistol in his hand.

Shepard rose to her feet and walked to the edge of the stacked crates. Dropping onto her backside to lessen the distance, she wiggled off and landed with a solid impact of her boots, bending her knees to absorb the impact. Keeping her rifle down, she turned and waited for Thane and Garrus to fall into step beside her, both on her right, before heading towards the door at the other end of the facility.

"Shepard," said Thane quietly. "I do not think these men will be willing to discuss anything with you."

"No," she returned. "Nor do I." She freed her left hand and put it to her ear. "EDI. Tell me there's some kind of reactor or power core or central control unit here we can make go boom."

Garrus groaned and let his head sag to the side. "She's going to blow it up." That was muttered quietly to Thane, but louder, to her, he continued, "Do you _have_ to blow it up? Can you at least wait until we leave and get to a safe distance this time?"

+_I have located a central computer that leads to a power core. I am unable to access it, so you would have to overload it manually. However, it is very deep within the facility_.+

"So basically we blow this facility, we blow the mountain."

"I _really_ like the idea of us not being here when that happens," muttered Garrus.

"I concur."

Shepard shook her head. "I have no intention of being here when I hit the switch. EDI, let's do it."

+_Uploading location to your hardsuit's navigation_.+

Shepard rested her assault rifle against her shoulder, eyes half closed. "Alright. Looks like we're committed, boys." She strode towards the door, unholstering her shotgun as she went. As it unfolded, she aimed it down to the side without looking.

The injured merc's hands flew up and he shouted, "No do-" before Shepard shot him in the face.

**(/*\)**

The merc leader slumped backwards, his gun clattering to the ground as blood pumped from the holes in his chest. Garrus lowered his sniper rifle, Thane dropped his machine pistol and Shepard pointed her own pistol at the roof.

"Well," she said. "That went well."

"I would say it went _predictably_," murmured Garrus, checking the merc for heat sinks.

"I like predictable. Predictable I can plan for. I don't like improvising under fire_._" She walked to the console before her and fired it up, holstering her pistol.

"I must say I have been impressed with your skill at such thus far," commented Thane as he poked around for any useful credits or information they could download to the _Normandy_. Although he had balked at the suggestion of stealing from the dead when he had first seen Garrus and Shepard hacking into a wall safe with a certain air of devious glee, he had long since rationalized the act. The dead, after all, couldn't object, and Shepard was indeed embarking on an expensive endeavour. Cerberus funds were all well and good, but Shepard had more than once curled her lip at accepting their credits, and there was only so much money they could get from a salarian looking for his genetic records or for selling fish to a krogan.

He _still_ couldn't believe she had done that. But she laughed rather hard about it later, and he accepted that if it made is _siha_ laugh, something she so rarely did, then it was something worth doing.

"Flatterer."

Loading some credits to the _Normandy_'s accounts, he turned back to Shepard as she stepped away from the console.

"Boom," she said quietly, turning to Garrus. "Twenty minutes to core overload. That enough time for you, Mister Vakarian?"

"Somehow," began the scarred turian as he rose to his feet and slapped a fresh heat sink into his sniper rifle, "it feels like it's not."

The three of them turned away from the console just as the door to the control room opened and half a dozen mercs stood there, guns up. Shepard slung out her pistol and aimed it towards the leader as Garrus and Thane brought up their assault rifle and machine pistols respectively.

"I knew it wouldn't be enough…"

Silence reigned between the two groups, everyone waiting for someone to shoot or speak. But then one of the mercs holstered his gun, brought up both hands and began clapping.

Shepard's head twitched to the side slightly, something she did when she was wondering what in the hell was going on. Garrus narrowed his eyes. Thane was unaffected.

"Well done. Well _done_. Bursting into this facility, killing everyone in your path, I'm assuming you set this place to self-destruct. Nothing but thorough you are, Nattie."

_Nattie_?

The breath rushed out of Shepard's body and her shoulders relaxed from their ready position in shock.

"At first I wasn't sure it was _you_. I mean… it couldn't be, right? But the way you move, the way you shoot… the way you take fire for your squad. Nothing's changed, Nattie. Nothing at all." The leader shook his helmeted head. "And then I heard your voice. _Your_ voice." He lifted his shoulders. "A part of me doubted that you were working with Cerberus. After all, it was _you_. But now… well. I guess now I know better…" The man lifted his head and grasped his helmet, twisting it to the left to disengage the seals, before pulling it off. "Don't I, Nattie?"

Shepard's pistol sagged in her hand and she took a step back, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the blood drained from her face.

"_Toombs_."

Garrus jerked visibly and glanced at Shepard, before he uttered a heartfelt, "_Fuck_."

**(/*\)**


	4. And The Walls Came Tumbling Down

**Warning**: Frequent coarse language, violence

**Author's Note**: I have not added any additional chapters, I have simply broken up the existing fiction into smaller parts for easier reading, and re-written the ending.

**Last Edit**: 26/02/11

**Perdition**

Chapter 4

'_And the Walls Came Tumbling Down'_

**(/*\)**

Thane's eyes darted between Garrus and Shepard, and then he refocused on the man known as Toombs. Who he was could wait until a time when their lives were not hanging in the balance.

"Toombs," Natalya said again, and her voice broke with… _pain_? Thane's gaze wavered to her again, confusion and perhaps alarm beginning to coil in his stomach. So blatant and unguarded. So unlike Natalya Shepard.

The man stepped into the room, his strides purposeful as he approached Shepard. She took a step back, her expression becoming slightly panicked, but before anyone even knew what he was doing, he drew back his fist and punched her in the jaw. Shepard's head snapped to the side and she grunted as she stepped back and almost overbalanced. Her quick reflexes honed by a lifetime of being a soldier were the only thing that kept her from toppling to the floor.

Thane whipped his gun up and aimed at Toombs. A turian hand grabbed the barrel and shoved his machine pistol down. Thane spun to look at Garrus. "What are you-"

"Don't," whispered the turian. "She'll never forgive you."

Thane stared at him, and then turned to look at Shepard. As she righted herself, wiping her lip, his eyes darted to Toombs and then back to the Commander. He didn't know who to watch. Or what to do. Before he had been determined to kill the man if he threatened Shepard, but Garrus wouldn't stop him without a damn good reason. The turian _knew_ Shepard. He knew what she could endure and he knew when to watch her back. But now… now he seemed wary and unsure. Garrus didn't know what to do to watch Shepard's back and Thane did not like that. He took his cues from Garrus because he was still learning Shepard's ways. But if Garrus did not know, Thane found himself in a position of uncertainty, and if there was anything Thane did not like, it was uncertainty, especially if it could be endangering Shepard.

_Siha… what is going on_?

Shepard righted herself slowly, rubbing her jaw with the back of her hand. He caught a glimpse of her face. She wasn't angry. She wasn't even irritated. She was…

She was scared.

Ashamed.

Thane's brows drew together and his lips parted in shock, before he managed to school his expression to professional blankness. He had never seen that expression on her face before.

_Never_.

Who was this Toombs? And who was he to Natalya?

"Isn't this just my lucky day?" Toombs threw his arms wide and laughed, shaking his head.

Garrus removed his hand from Thane's gun, holstering his sniper rifle and drawing his assault. Instead of aiming it at Toombs, however, he pointed it at the mercs behind him, who had advanced with their leader. Thane was not so inclined and he sidled to Shepard's other side, crossing behind her and essentially swapping sides with Garrus, his machine pistol down but ready to put a round in Toombs' temple if he so much as blinked wrong.

Shepard said nothing, just staring up at Toombs in silence.

"You look _good_, Shep," he said, smiling at her. "Good for dead. So, tell me, did you really die, or did you manage to drag your ass out of the wreckage again?"

_Again_?

"I really died," whispered Shepard. "Cerberus brought me back."

"They brought you back?" The scepticism dripped from the man's voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't care if you believe me or not. It's true."

"Oh!" Toombs let out a laugh that no one armed with any sort of firearm should let out. Not when you were on the receiving end. "Wow. You must really be valuable to them, Shep. _Really_ valuable. Tell me, did they put thresher maw acid in _your_ veins?"

"No." Her voice was quiet and the word trembled.

"Did they torture you? Experiment on you?"

"No." Shepard shook her head, the word barely audible this time.

Toombs grabbed the front of her hardsuit and yanked her close. "_So why the fuck did they bring you back_?"

Her mouth opened, closed, and then she looked away. _She looked away_. "Because they needed me…" Her eyes darted back and forth, anywhere but at Toombs.

Toombs let out a sound of incredulity. "They needed you. _Cerberus_ needed you." Toombs leant closer, if that was possible. "_What for_?"

Shepard swallowed convulsively, before saying what she said to everyone that asked her that very question, "The Collectors are taking thousands of human colonists. Cerberus is out to stop them, and I'm… and so they're helping me."

Toombs' eyes flicked back and forth, looking into each of Shepard's, before he shoved her back, sending her stumbling away. Thane was there instantly, at her back, hand reaching out to support her, but she regained her balance before he was needed. His eyes narrowed as he glared at Toombs, wondering who the hell this man was to have such an effect on Natalya.

Shepard reached back, waving him off, but Thane didn't move more than half a step away from her. If Toombs hit Natalya again, Thane was going to rip his throat out.

"I know better than to think you'd buy into some story. You have to have seen proof. So I guess I'll buy the Collector bullshit. But if it is true, Nattie, you're doing Cerberus' fucking dirty work for them! And you're _okay_ with that?"

Shepard scowled slightly, but she didn't look away from him. Thane watched her get her feet back under her and lift her chin. "I hardly think finding out about the disappearance of tens of thousands of humans and ensuring the safety of an untold number of others is _dirty work_, Toombs. I'm not… I'm not working for Cerberus."

"The _hell_ you aren't, Shepard. You're on a Cerberus ship. With Cerberus crew. And you owe your happy second life to Cerberus."

"I don't owe Cerberus anything," she spat. The rage came back, her temper sparking. "And I am _not_ working for them. And this life is anything but fucking happy!"

"No? _No_? Then why, Shepard? If not because you _owe_ them, why are you working with them? Why are you having anything to _do_ with them? And after everything they did. After me. After _Akuze_. After watching _fifty_ of our men _die in front of you_ because of _them_, you're _working with them_?"

_Akuze_. Thane had heard that name before, and not just on Natalya's ship, and a puzzle piece he did not know was missing fell into place. Thane's eyes darted to Toombs, and then back to Shepard as the picture began to form, not just of this situation, but also the picture behind the shadows in Shepard's eyes, the anger in her body, her animosity towards Cerberus. The unspoken grief that touched her every action, resonating with his own feelings of loss for Irikah.

… _Her eyes widen as I tell her about my wife and there is something in her eyes that I would not expect… Understanding…_

… _She watches me embrace my son and smiles sadly, but turns away in pain…_

… _She puts her hands to her face when she hears about another colony being taken and leaves my presence quickly…_

… _She stares at the pile of corpses and every line in her body screams with anguish…_

Natalya had carried in her some unseen anguish, hiding it inside of her, keeping it at bay, and Thane finally recognised it. It wasn't empathy. It wasn't a deep sense of responsibility.

It was guilt, plain and simple, and Natalya was drowning in it.

An assassin was patient, silent, unseen. He knew that in these next few minutes he would find out more about Natalya Shepard than hours of conversation.

'_She needs your support more than she needs her pride_.'

Thane was beginning to realize that Chambers was right… A part of him rebelled that he was not hearing it from her, but something told him that to find out about Natalya's most deepest, well-hidden anguish, he would have to locate the stitches of the unhealed wound first and rip them free.

He could only pray that Natalya would not hate him for it.

"I am not working for them!" shouted Shepard.

Thane blinked, startled by her voice, and returned to the present.

"You're being _funded_ by Cerberus, aren't you?"

"I… Cerberus gives me the credits I n-"

"And you're working with Cerberus crew, on a Cerberus vessel, yes?"

"It's a remake of my old vessel, the _Normandy_. With… with some improvements."

"Did you approve of those improvements, Shepard? Did you even know about them? And I bet Cerberus tell you what to do."

"I don't take orders from Cerberus!"

"But you base your decisions on what they tell you, don't you! You might think you're working on your own, but you're not. You might not be a Cerberus operative, but you're as good as a merc in their employ, Shepard!"

"NO!" she shouted, stepping forward. But that outburst seemed all she was good for, the rage and certainty fading away. "I… Maybe. Maybe I am a merc in their employ…""

"Shepard…" began Garrus, stepping towards her.

She held out a hand to him, her voice stronger as she continued. "But it's because I don't have a choice. They're not my bosses. They're my allies. I… I need them to stop the Collectors. I can't do it on my own!" She threw up her hand before Tombs could speak. "I _know_ it was the Collectors. I saw it happening. Cerberus is the only group willing to _do_ something about it. For now, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Thousands of lives are at stake here, Toombs. Maybe millions. Maybe… maybe all of them." Her face darkened and Thane knew she was recalling the pods they saw on the Collector vessel and Garrus' quiet comment of them going after Earth.

"You _do_ have a choice," whispered Toombs, face contorted with rage. "You could have turned Cerberus aside. Found your own way. Your own money."

"I was dead for two fucking years, Toombs! I need money and information _now_ if I'm to stop the Collectors!"

"Is it worth the price, Shepard? Is it worth selling your soul to the devil? Is it worth the memory of our men? Is it worth working with Cerberus?"

"Yes!" she shouted, but the cry was anguished. "Yes dammit! It's worth it! It's worth selling my fucking soul. And my fucking pride and my dignity and my sense of self-worth! It's worth turning my back on their memory! It's fucking worth working with Cerebus! Because there are more important things at stake here than the _dead_, Toombs!"

"You worthless, backstabbing _whore_! How _dare_ you talk about them like that?"

"They're _dead_, Toombs. They're _dead_ and I _can't_ help them by turning my back on this. I _can't_. But I _can_ help the living. And they're what's important right now!"

Silence reigned as Toombs stepped away. This whole time the mercs had been forgotten, but they shifted when he approached them. After holding up guns for a while, arms get tired, and they had lowered them in leiu of the argument.

Whether or not they lifted them again…

"I'm sorry, Toombs," whispered Shepard. "I'm sorry. I know you hate me, and you have every right to. But I h-"

Toombs walked back to Shepard, unholstered his pistol and pressed it against her forehead.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening, and went very still. Thane and Garrus were there instantly, despite Garrus' previous words, their weapons trained on Toombs. The mercs swung their guns up. The air was charged with hostility as they hovered on the knife-edge of violence.

Shepard didn't move. She just stared past the barrel of the pistol into Toombs' eyes.

"I should just kill you now," he spat. "Fucking Cerberus sell-out. After what they did to us! After what… what they did to _me_. And you talked me down! You talked me down from fucking killing him! I wish I had, Shepard! I wish I had killed him! And I wished I had killed you, too!" He dug the pistol into her brow, making her flinch slightly. "But I can fix that now. Can't I? I can put a bullet in your fucking brain. Let's see Cerberus fix _that_."

He clenched his fist around the pistol and twisted it, "You can't justify this, Shepard. After what they did to me. _Years_ of torture. You can't justify it. You can't talk me down. You _can't_. You betrayed them, Shepard. You betrayed them to ally with the people that _killed_ them. I can't… I can't let you get away with it. Our men deserved better! Their memory deserve _better_!" He stepped up and braced the pistol with both hands. "You have to die, Shepard. You have to die. It's the only way. It's _justice_. You hear me? _Justice_."

Garrus seemed to be struggling with the situation, with the words, because he was panting harshly, like he had run a mile. Thane glanced at him, before looking at Toombs, watching his finger. If it so much as twitched-

"Do it."

Garrus's head swung back and forth, more a gesture of shock than one of denial, "Shepard…"

Thane's head snapped around to stare at her.

She ignored him as she stared up at Toombs, "Do it. Do it, Toombs."

"I _should_."

"Then do it." She was trembling finely, staring at him. "Do it! DO IT. _FUCKING SHOOT ME_."

Silence reigned, and Toombs didn't shoot her. Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Shoot me, Toombs. But when you do, know that you're only doing it for your _pride_."

He flinched and her eyes echoed his pain.

"It's not about our men. It's not about their memory. Because you _know_ that each and every one of them would approve of what I'm doing."

"The _hell_ they would!"

"Not allying with Cerberus, no. But that's not what I've done. I'm not their friend and I'm not their lackey and I'm not their _tool_. I'm not doing this for _them._ If it was Cerberus, or any other group, it would be the _same_. I am not doing this for _them_. I am doing this for the innocent men and women and children that are suffering at the hands of the Collectors. Right now. I've seen their bodies, Toombs. Piled up and discarded. Forgotten. Like _trash_. I _have_ to stop it from happening. That's what I'm doing. But if you want to shoot me, do it. Just do it, Toombs."

"Someone else… someone else will take up the fight," he choked.

"_No one else will do it_!" she screamed. Actually screamed at him. "_THAT'S FUCKING WHY I'M HERE_."

Toombs lowered the gun slowly, staring at her.

"You think if _anyone else_ could do this, if anyone else _would_ do this, that I wouldn't _happily_ hand this all over to them?" Shepard spread her arms wide. "I would! Fucking _gladly_. But no one will! The only people with the power refuse to believe what's happening. The only people that believe are ON MY FUCKING SHIP. The only people willing to _help_ me do this is _Cerberus_. So when I say _I have no choice_, Toombs, I _actually_ have _no fucking choice_."

She lowered her arms and whispered. "And our men would _know_ that… But you're so lost in your need for revenge that you can't see that."

"And you're not!"

"I can't afford to be. This is more important than _me_, Toombs. And it's more important than _you_! And it's more important than _their memory_."

Toombs made a sound of rage, incoherent and strangled, and punched her again. Shepard grunted and tottered, almost going down onto one knee. Toombs wet to hit her again, but a green hand slapped his wrist, throwing his punch wide. Toombs looked at the drell assassin, face contorted with rage, but Thane spoke before he could.

"You will not hit her again."

"Get the hell out of my way. This is none of your damn business!"

"Thane…"

Thane grabbed Toombs' armour and jerked him close, uncaring of his mercenaries. "It is not that I do not know what is between you and her, Toombs. It is that I do not care. You will not hit her again."

"Thane might not know what's going on, but _I_ do, and I don't give a shit either," said Garrus from over Thane's shoulder. "And though I sincerely doubt you'll get past the man they call the greatest assassin in the galaxy, if you do, I'll put a bullet in your brain before you ever get in arm's reach of Shepard. Got it?"

"Garrus!"

"Sorry, Shepard, but you're more important to me than your pride."

Thane released Toombs before the man could shake himself free and stepped back, placing himself firmly between Shepard and Toombs. If this man was a part of Natalya's painful past, then he was the first physical thing that Thane could protect her from.

"Loyal men you have here, Natalya." Toombs could have spread the venom in his voice like butter. "Do they know the truth, I wonder?"

"Like I said," said Thane slowly, as if Toombs was a particularly slow child. "I do not care."

"And it doesn't matter," added Garrus. "Not to me. Not to anyone. And it wouldn't matter to your men, either. She's saving lives, Toombs. You're just taking them."

Thane chanced a glance back at Natalya and saw her staring at the ground, eyes glistening.

Toombs stared at them, before nodding and lowering his head as he stepped back. "You're right. Of course you're right. Shepard is doing… the righteous thing. Walking the high road. I bet… I bet the men would be proud of her, actually." His head came up, "But I'm not them."

Toombs whipped around and fired at his squad, one after the other. They fell with cries of surprise and pain, collapsing like dolls on the floor. One of them twitched and lifted his gun, but Toombs shot him between the eyes.

Thane jerked back, eyes widening, and he felt Natalya collide with his shoulder. Throwing an arm out, he stopped her from advancing as she cried, "What the hell are you doing?'

Toombs turned and holstered his pistol. "You came here trying to 'negotiate'." He made air quotations. "But when we didn't, you decided to kill us all. There's no shortcut for you this time, Nattie. No way for you out. You can't talk me down. You can't satiate your own conscience. Not this time." He laughed and spread his hands, "You wanted to stop us? Well you have. The only merc left in this entire facility… is me, Nattie… Best finish the job _this time_." When she continued to stare at him, he shrugged and smiled. "Can't kill me? That's okay. I'll _help_ you."

Toombs brushed past Shepard and walked towards the console, staring down at it. "You have four minutes left, Shepard."

She turned to follow him, that same expression of horror on her face. "What?"

Thane shared an apprehensive look with Garrus.

"Four minutes and eighteen seconds until this place goes sky high. Or… hell deep. Either way. You might want to run." Toombs rested his hip against the console and folded his arms over his chest.

Thane went cold at the depth of the man's cruelty. How could he ever have called himself Natalya's friend if he could do this to her? It went beyond vengeance and spite. It was evil.

"Toombs. What are you doing?"

"Shepard," Garrus said at the same time. "We have to go."

Toombs down at the console. "Three minutes, fifty two seconds."

Thane reached out to Natalya, but froze when he saw the tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Toombs," she whispered, her voice thready, like a frightened child. "Please…"

"I saw your eyes before Nattie. When I held that pistol to your head. I saw them. You really wanted me to pull the trigger. You really, really wanted me to kill you, didn't you?"

Thane sucked in a sharp breath and Garrus stepped back, his head tilting as he tried to silently deny what he was hearing. Shepard said nothing, did nothing, except shudder.

Toombs braced his hands on the console and leant forward. "I realize now that killing you isn't really a punishment. I mean, Cerberus will just bring you back, right? No." His expression got sinister then and caused Shepard to step back and Thane to step closer, wanting to protect her from this vile man. A glance at Natalya was nearly his undoing when he saw the tears spill over her lashes and down her cheeks, splashing on the ground between her feet.

Natalua didn't care about Thane at her back. She didn't care about Garrus. She just didn't care anymore. About anything. As Toombs slung the words in her face, all she cared about was the fact that the cracked mirror behind her eyes was finally coming apart, the shards of glass cutting her deep as they fell to the depths of her soul, scattering there in a mass of broken frailty.

"The best punishment I can think for what you've done to me, for what you've done to the memory of our men, is to let you live, Nattie. Live with the knowledge that you killed me. This time you really will be the only one that survived!"

She shook her head. "Toombs! Don't!"

"Three minutes."

"Shepard!" shouted Garrus. "We have to go! We have to go _now_!"

"Toombs! Come with us! TOOMBS!" She fought against Garrus as he tried to drag her, soon joined by Thane as they hauled her towards the door.

"I'm not like you, Nattie. I can't let go of my vengeance. Sorry, Nattie! But I have to have my revenge on you! So I'll help you! Help you kill every Cerberus-killing merc out there. Including me! Take _that_ you backstabbing _bitch_!"

"No time." Thane grabbed Natalya's arm and physically hauled her around, shoving her. "Go!"

"Toombs!" She spun back around, but Thane grabbed her armour and pulled her face close to his. "There is nothing you can do, Natalya. _Nothing_. He has chosen his fate. Now go!"

"But-"

"_GO_!"

Natalya cast one, final look at Toombs, before she turned and fled the room, Thane and Garrus on her heels.

Thane tried to pretend that the sound that followed them out of the room was not Toombs' laughter.

Natalya slammed into a wall, pushing off with her hands as she charged around a corner. She almost fell, unable to see through her tears, but hands grabbed her, pulling her up, urging her onwards. Thane and Garrus could easily have run ahead, but neither did. They would not leave her behind. They were willing to help her get out alive, or die with her.

Natalya felt her tears flow faster.

+_Shepard! Why are you still inside? You need to be _gone_!_+

"We're working on it, Joker, believe me!" replied. Garrus, sparing her from trying to unclog her throat to answer.

They burst out of the facility to find the _Kodiak_ there and waiting for them, already hovering above the ground. Garrus took two leaping strides and threw himself inside, sliding across the floor and impacting against the opposite side. Shepard rolled shoulder first into the _Kodiak,_ her back hitting his chest, and Thane dove in after them, landing half on Shepard, bracing his arm on Garrus' shoulder.

"GO!" they shouted together.

The door was still easing closed as the _Kodiak_ turned and lifted into the air. The moment that it clicked into place, the pilot hit the accelerator and they were slammed with inertia like a fist to the gut. Thane groaned. Shepard closed her eyes. Garrus made a muted sound of effort. Then the outside world flashed with white-blue light as the power core overloaded. A shockwave washed over the _Kodiak_, but was gentle, light, like a caress rather than a shove.

In the back, the three warriors lay in silence except for the gasping of breath. After a moment, Shepard extricated herself from the tangle of limbs, shoving herself up. Her head was down, her lashes lowered, as she staggered to the window. Kneeling beside it, she pressed her hands to the reinforced panel, her forehead between them, as she tried to look back. The nose of the _Kodiak_ turned up and the inertia dampeners kicked in as it prepared to leave atmo and rejoin the _Normandy_ in space, artificial gravity firmly adhering them to the floor that was now, technically, the wall.

Garrus slowly sat up, staring out the window and Thane moved onto one of the seats, still trying to slow his breathing.

Both of them pretended not to see her tears.

**(/*\)**

+_So, Commander, that brings our tally of destroyed facilities up to, oh, gee. I lost count_.+

"Shut up, Joker."

+_And our tally of destroyed merc-_+

"I said SHUT UP."

Joker's stunned silence reigned through the static of the communications channel as the _Kodiak_ alighted in the _Normandy_'s cargo hold. Then the channel went dead. Shepard couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty. As she got out of the _Kodiak_, she couldn't feel anything. Even though she knew she was standing on the solid floor of the _Normandy's_ hold, she felt like there was nothing under her. Nothing but open air and blackness and she was falling. A hand touched her shoulder and she shrugged it off, uncaring if it was Thane or Garrus. She stepped away from them both, her head down and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

_I killed Toombs_… She put one hand to her face. _I killed him. I did. It was me. I did it. I betrayed him, then I killed him_.

She fought back more tears. She didn't want to cry on the _Normandy_, not in the cargo hold. The last thing she needed was Jack or Grunt to see. Or Kelly. Or… Shit, the last thing she needed was _anyone_ to see.

"Shepard…" Garrus' voice was quiet, cautious. Someone stepped closer to her, but she spun away again.

_Don't fucking touch me. Don't give me sympathy. For the love of Christ, don't _hug_ me._

She saw Garrus was still at the _Kodiak_, so it had to be Thane behind her. Once upon a time, a few hours that felt like a few years ago, Shepard had wanted to collapse against Thane, to have him hold her and lie to her and tell her everything will be alright.

Now, that was the last thing she wanted.

The first thing she wanted was to get very, very drunk, and that was warring with the idea of putting the pistol under her pillow to good use.

_Fuck_…

She heard footsteps on the steps leading to the cargo hold and glanced up.

_**Fuck**_.

Miranda and Tali stood there. Miranda with her arms folded over her chest, Tali running to Shepard's side. The quarian lifted her hands to touch Shepard, but Natalya grabbed her wrists, holding her hands away from her gently, but firmly.

"_Don't_."

Tali made a muted sound of distress as Shepard carefully pushed her away and released her.

"Shepard," came Miranda's voice. "We need to talk…"

"No. No we fucking do not." Shepard strode towards her, her boots hammering into the decking. "If someone mentions the word 'talk' in the context of 'needing to' or 'want to', I will _shoot_ them. I don't give a _shit_ who you are, what species you are, what rank you hold, who your daddy is, or who you're fucking. I will _shoot. You. Dead_."

"Shepard. This is a matter of some importance," insisted Miranda.

Shepard jerked up a fist so fast that Miranda reared back, but all Shepard did was point at her. Then Natalya lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender. Shaking her head, Natalya stepped past Miranda and stomped up the stairs to the hall leading to the elevator.

Rapid steps followed her and just as she reached the elevator, Garrus called, "Natalya."

It was the first time he had ever said her given name, and that alone had her stopping. Sighing, Shepard lowered her head, brows drawing together. After a struggle with herself, she pivoted slightly and looked over her shoulder at him. He stood beside Miranda, at the top of the stairs, looking more helpless than she had ever seen him.

"What he said..." He stopped, clearly struggling for something, anything to say. "What _I_ said when…" He stopped once more, lifting his claws helplessly. "You're not… you didn't… their memory…"

She knew what he was trying to say, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. But there was no room for eloquence, and there were no words that existed that could offer the comfort he so wanted to provide.

More than that, she didn't want to be comforted.

"Every reason you hated Sidonis, Garrus, every reason you wanted to kill him, the very reason for all of it, is exactly the reasons he had. Don't you get it?" She shrugged helplessly. "I am his Sidonis."

Then she vanished into the elevator as Garrus sagged, horror suffusing his body. In the ensuing silence, he whispered, "No… no you're not…" He stepped back and put his hands to his face, digging the heel of his palms into his forehead. "Spirits, Shepard. It's not the same…" Miranda swore and stormed past him, heading for the elevator. Garrus stopped her with a claw to her elbow. "Don't. Whatever you're going to do, just don't do it."

Miranda cast him a scathing look. "She can't be caught up in the past, Vakarian. She needs to focus on _now_."

"She is aware of that." It was Thane that spoke, his voice ringing up through the massive cargo hold, echoing around them. "It is the… whole reason for this situation. Focusing on the now." He recalled what she had said to Toombs. "Choosing the present over the past. The living over the dead. Give her some time, Miss Lawson."

"We don't have _time_."

"You have time enough for this." The assassin's words grew quietly dangerous and his fathomless eyes narrowed. Miranda and he stared at one another, before she ripped herself away from Garrus.

"Deal with this," she snapped. "Before I do."

Then she turned and called the elevator down. They all watched as she vanished inside, just as Shepard had done, and the doors closed behind her.

"Bitch," muttered Garrus.

"What happened?" whispered Tali. "What… what happened?"

Garrus slumped against the wall and put his hand to his face. "Toombs was on the planet."

"Toombs…? Wasn't he the…" Tali gasped and brought her hand to her mask. "Oh no…"

+_Fuck…_+ came Joker's voice from above.

Tali looked at the empty _Kodiak_, then brought up her other hand to her mask. "Oh _no_."

Thane watched them both quietly, knowing that he did not yet know everything, but resolving to find out. Removing his eyepiece, Garrus hurled it down the hall, past a confused Jack who had just emerged from engineering.

"I take it I missed something."

**(/*\)**


	5. You Do Not Stand Alone

**Warning: **Game spoilers. Rated for Language. Shepard likes to swear.

**For those of you returning to this fiction**: I have not added any more chapters. I've simply edited and broken the existing fiction into a short work to make it easier to read. The final two chapters have been re-written.

**Last Edit**: 26/02/11

**Perdition**

Chapter Five

'_You Do Not Stand Alone_'

**(/*\)**

"We need to go after the Reaper IFF. If Shepard is not combat efficient by the time we reach the Reaper, I will lead a -"

"No."

The tension of the room, already at an all time high, reached a point where Garrus and Miranda could have thrown sparks. The two of them stared at one another from opposite ends of the debriefing room table, after Miranda had called an impromptu meeting of the crew. A meeting where their Commander's presence was quite noticeably missing. What was also quite noticeable was that Garrus took up her normal position at the end of the debriefing table, with Tali, Jack and Grunt nearer to him. Mordin and Samara stood on opposite sides, closer to Garrus than Miranda, who was at the opposite end to the turian. Jacob was to Miranda's right, but not near to her.

"What exactly is it that you are objecting to, Vakarian?" Noveria's icy tundra had nothing on the chill of Miranda's voice. "I am Shepard's co-chief of command, so it is logical that-"

"We aren't going anywhere."

"This is not up for discussion, Vakarian. We need that IFF."

"Yes, we do, but we are not going without Shepard."

"What are you suggesting, Vakarian? That we simply wait for Shepard to drag herself out of her depression?"

"Yes."

"It's been three days, Vakarian, and no one has seen anything of her. We don't have time for this!" Miranda visibly struggled to calm herself. "I understand that Shepard is going through-"

"Those words," Garrus cut her off, "have no place emerging from your lips. You can't even begin to comprehend what she is going through."

"Damn it, Vakarian. There is more at stake here than her ego!"

"Don't you _dare_ talk about Natalya like that." Garrus let out a turian snarl of rage, pointing a claw at Miranda. "You have no idea what's at stake here, Miranda. None."

"Don't be stupid. We don't have the time for this." Miranda held up her hand and shook her head. "I'm the co-chief in command and with Shepard... incapacitated, that puts me in charge. So _I_ say we go after the Reaper IFF. We can sort her out afterwards."

The silence after Miranda's declaration stretched long and loud. No one moved an inch.

Slowly Jack smiled, resting her elbows on the table beside Garrus. "Uh oh, Cheerleader."

Tali glanced around, but when it became clear no one was going to speak, she turned to Miranda and said, "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Miranda turned a frigid glare to the young quarian. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Tali shook her head. "You're not the second in command here. You never have been."

"Whether or not you want me to be here is irrelevant. I _am_ here, and I _am_ second in command."

"Says who?" challenged Jack, not about to miss out on the fun. "Really, says who? The Illusive Man?" Jack spread her tattooed arms. "I don't see him on this ship."

"Jacob and-"

"Don't bring him into this." Jack jerked her head to Jacob, who had been standing in the space between Miranda and the rest of the crew with his arms folded, legs braced, and a scowl firmly on his face. "This is about you, Cheerleader, and you being 'in charge'." Jack made air quotations with those words. "You can't be in charge if no one will follow you. I sure as hell won't."

"Your personal feelings towards me are irrelevant, Jack."

"It's not about…" Jack trailed off, before snorting. "Okay, yeah, it is. But most of all, it's 'cause I owe Shepard. She took me to Pragia and we nuked that shithole facility off the planet. She's done good by me. You? What have you done? Nothing. It's more than you being Cerberus. Which has a lot to do with _me_ not following you, I shit you not. But them?" She gestured at the others. "They aint movin' an inch for you."

Grunt shifted his weight, reminding them that he was there, even if he was silent, "Shepard is my battlemaster. She has no equal and I follow no other."

"Though I would prefer to create cohesion amongst the crew," ventured Samara, "my Oath was to Shepard and Shepard alone. I owe you no such allegiance, Miss Lawson, nor Cerberus. I will obey your orders if Shepard wishes me to. I would follow you if you were the second in command as appointed by Shepard… but as far as I have seen, the one Shepard chose to be her second in command is not you."

"Who is, then?" challenged Miranda.

"Garrus Vakarian."

Garrus twitched and looked at Samara.

"It is true."

Everyone turned to look at Thane, who was standing in the shadows near the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. A scowl of concern seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his brow and he refrained from interacting with anyone as of late. He didn't bother looking directly at anyone in the room, either. Rather he simply canted his head in the direction of the rest of the room's occupants as he spoke.

"She turns to you first, Garrus. She takes you on every mission, regardless of who else must go. She talks to you about strategies. She asks you for advice. She listens to you. It is more than she does with any other on this vessel." Thane bit his tongue against saying 'including me'. "You might be the primary liaison between Cerberus and Shepard aside from the Illusive Man himself, Miss Lawson, but that does not make you the second in command. It makes you a liaison. From the moment I stepped aboard this vessel, it was clear that Garrus was the most trusted member of her crew. From the very first moment, it was clear to me that he was her second in command." He pushed himself upright and looked across the room at Garrus, who was staring back, and then turned his head to look at Miranda. "Although it is my nature to notice things, I thought this was... obvious."

"He is also her best friend." Tali looked at Garrus, putting her hand on his shoulder, and then also looked at MIranda. "And he knows her more than any other. More than I. More than you. If anyone will do right by Shepard when she needs it most, at least when it comes to command, it's Garrus."

"This is absurd." Miranda gestured with one hand, before looking at the others. "Mordin. You can't _agree_ with this."

The salarian swayed his head, before making a gesture with his hands. "Am ambivalent to the situation. Believe you will do best by mission as you think. Believe Garrus will do best by mission as he thinks. Am minority in this, either way." Mordin gave a salarian equivalent for a shrug with his hands. "Does not matter what I think. Others are set on their paths. Can only follow."

Miranda, now slightly desperate for allies, turned to Grunt. "You said you would follow no other!"

"The turian was there when we took down the thresher maw. I saw him and Shepard working together. They are more than allies. They fight as one. Following Garrus is following Shepard."

"This is… _ridiculous_!" Miranda swept her gaze over Jack, who was grinning, before spinning all the way around to Jacob. "You…!"

He sighed and lowered his eyes. "Hate to say it, Miranda, but they're right. I'm a soldier through and through, and though the roster may put you as second in command, Shepard doesn't act like you are. It's easy to see. Garrus is her co-chief of command. There's no way around it."

"But this is a _Cerberus_ operation-"

"Only to you." Jacob looked at her levelly. "Only to the Illusive Man. To everyone on board, it's Shepard's show, and she runs it."

Miranda pointed a finger at them all. "Whether or not Shepard _acts_ like I am second in command is irrelevant! I still _am_!"

"_We_," chortled Jack, clearly enjoying herself, "don't care."

"The _crew_… the crew will follow me."

"Chakwas won't," said Tali quietly. "Kelly will probably avoid confrontation. But are you going to go charging into battle with Rupert and Kenneth? I don't think so."

"If you could succeed with the crew aboard this vessel, you would not have needed to find us," added Thane, lacing his hands behind his back and standing straighter. "If _you_ could have stopped the Collectors, you would not have brought Shepard back from the dead."

"Besides," said Tali with what sounded like a certain level of glee, "_you're_ not the one piloting this ship." She looked at Miranda, and then looked up. "Joker. If you had to choose, who would _you_ follow?"

+_Aw, man, Tali. Now that... that's just not fair. I'm just the pilot_.+

"Joker…"

A sigh. +_Garrus. As much as I hate to say it, Garrus. He's all… you know. Stick-ish. But I'd follow Garrus_._ Cause… cause yeah. He'd to right by Shep, and Shep's what counts here_.+

Mordin opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "Advocate for doing greater good. Lesser evil. Shepard does not agree, but she has argued, not hated for it. She is still... friend." He looked at Miranda levelly. "Shepard went out of her way to help with problem. Owe her loyalty. Will do this. For her."

"You'd put the fate of humanity at risk for _one person_?" Miranda turned to Garrus, incredulous.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're asking so much of her." Everyone turned to Thane again, but this time his words were laced with anger rather than their normal calm, even tone. "Because you are demanding so much of her." He looked at Miranda, black eyes like fathomless voids of condemnation. "You do not set the terms, Miranda. She is not a tool. She is not an object. She is not your property. She isn't even one of your people. You owe her more than you can ever hope to repay, Miranda, for the sole fact that you need her so much, you couldn't let her die."

Silence reigned and Miranda and Thane stared each other down. She tossed one last look around the debriefing room at all the gazes directed back at her, before swearing vilely and leaving the room.

EDI's holographic orb shimmered to life at the end of the table. "I must inform you that this could be interpreted as mutiny, Garrus. Miranda _is_ the appointed second in charge and with Shepard indisposed, she is, technically, in command."

"I don't care."

Silence reigned, before EDI said, "I shall inform you if she contacts the Illusive Man." And then she was gone.

Garrus glanced around at all the gazes now shifting to him. Straightening, he cleared his throat. "Dismissed. I guess."

There were a few small smiles as everyone filtered out of the room. Everyone except Thane. He remained standing at the opposite end of the table, waiting until the doors hissed closed. Garrus put his head in his hands and groaned quietly, before dropping them and staring at Thane.

"What happened to her, Garrus?" Thane enunciated each word clearly, stepping toward the table.

Garrus took several deep breaths, glancing around. Then he laughed bitterly. "Nothing I tell you Cerberus won't already know." He sighed, and looked at Thane. "About ten years ago, when humans were newly out of their solar system, a human colony disappeared on the world of Akuze. A squad of N7 marines was sent to investigate. It is the first recorded human encounter with a thresher maw. Reportedly, only one person survived."

_Natalya_. A lone survivor. A young woman, barely more than a child. She wouldn't have been an officer. She wouldn't even have been a soldier for very long.

"We fought a thresher maw on Tuchanka for Grunt's Rite. We had to… to survive it." Garrus shook his head, lowering it. "She killed it. But not before every joint in her body locked with terror and I had to slap her to bring her out of it. I've never seen her so afraid in my entire life, Thane."

"There is more to this story."

Garrus walked around the table to stand near Thane as he spoke. "When we were hunting Saren, we got on the trail of Cerberus operatives that were apparently a rogue military research group. They killed innocent people. Experimented on them. We killed them. We also were asked to investigate a group of mercenaries that were killing scientists. Turns out that Shepard's squad were not the first humans to encounter a thresher maw. Cerberus found out about them first and lured Shepard's squad into conflict with the one on Akuze. They watched."

_Sweet Arashu_… Thane's mouth fell open and he felt something that he had not felt in a long, long time.

Hatred. Hatred for Cerberus, for both what they did to Natalya so long ago, and then for having the audacity of interrupting her rest to drag her back into a painful life. So much fell into place

"How does Toombs come in to all of this?"

"Well. I said _reportedly_ Shepard was the only one to survive."

"No…"

Garrus' eyes grew distant and he was obviously reliving something painful. "I can remember her face so clearly when she recognized him. The absolute agony. And then when she found out that they – Cerberus – had experimented on him… for _years_. He was the one killing the scientists. The Cerberus scientists. And she talked him out of putting a bullet to the last one."

"And now she's working with her most hated enemy."

"Yeah." Garrus looked at Thane and his eyes were filled with sadness. "Thane. Sometimes I wonder if she wishes that Cerberus had just let her be dead. And I am scared that I know the answer. What does she have to live for?"

Thane had never heard a sadder statement. He had lived ten years knowing he would die young. Knowing that he had no choice, and no second chance. He had spent ten years making peace with that.

But Natalya's anguish was so great, this that life she was living was so painful, that she wanted to be dead again.

And Cerberus had brought her back.

Thane spun and walked toward the door.

"Thane!"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Garrus had taken a step toward him. The turian paused and lowered the hand that had been about to grab the drell's arm.

"If you let her lean on you, if you try and ease her pain, and she lets you… she'll be destroyed when you die." When Thane's eyes widened slightly, Garrus tilted his head down, but kept his eyes on Thane. "You know it's true."

"So you're telling me that I shouldn't try?"

"Not at all," said Garrus. "I'm saying that when you go, she goes with you. So please… help her. As much as you can. For as long as you can. Give her what I... Give her happiness."

Thane stared at Garrus for a moment, before saying quietly, "I will try."

After he left, Garrus swiped his hand down his face, turned and slammed his fist into the wall. All of the reasons he had to hate Cerberus, none was greater than the fact that Natalya Shepard would have been happier if they had just left her dead, and they had dragged her back to this living hell. None greater, except for the fact that Garrus was so glad that they had. Resting his head on the wall, Garrus closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Natalya..."

**(/*\)**

Each time Thane had gone to Natalya's room previously, he had asked her to open the door for him. Now he went about it a very different way. "EDI. Open the door."

The AI hesitated, before saying, "As you wish, Thane."

The door segmented, permitting Thane into Shepard's room. Strangely enough, it wasn't destroyed as they thought it would be. The fish tank sent blue light across the room, the crystalline water morbidly empty. Her console was still whole and operational. The display cabinet with her collection of ships in it was intact. There was nothing out of place except for the body sprawled motionless on the bed.

Thane was across the room before he could even think, grabbing Shepard's shoulder.

_I step through the door of my home and see the blood first. It is sprayed on the wall and pooled at its base. There is no body. Where is the body? Who died there? '_Irikah_!' I scream, the words ripped from my throat. '_Kolyat_!' Pain and anguish lance my form. Deeper than any wound I have ever received. Someone died in my home, and I knew Irikah nor Kolyat could ever take a life. One of them was dead. '_IRIKAH!'

He jerked himself out of the memory of discovering his home and his life destroyed when he heard the click of a pistol. It was pressed into the skin of his chin and his neck flared out of reflex, a defensive gesture. Shepard was propped up on one hand, her eyes half closed with sleep, as she glared at him.

Rather than lowering it, however, she grated, "Get. Out."

Thane waited until his throat relaxed before speaking. He did not raise his hands, nor make any other gesture of defencelessness. He simply said, "Do it."Natalya flinched when he threw her words back in her face. "Do it, Natalya. Shot me."

"Don't think… that I won't," she whispered, her voice hoarse like she had lost it screaming. "Don't think that I won't." She kept her eyes on Thane.

"Do you _want_ to shoot me, _siha_?"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

Thane twitched as she sat up sharply, pointing the gun directly at his face. She had screamed the words, loud and sharp and frantic, her voice breaking painfully. Thane's lips parted as tears glistened in her eyes. She swore and scrubbed at her face furiously, giving him a chance to grab her gun, to disarm her. He didn't. He just crouched beside her bed, hands in the air, watching her rub her burning eyes.

He reached out and touched her face. She slapped his hand aside and scooted back, staring at him. But, thankfully, the pistol lowered and rested in her lap. Thane stared at it, realizing that even though she slept on a heavily armoured ship, filled with competent warriors, she still needed to sleep with the security of a pistol under her pillow.

She still needed to know she could protect herself, even in sleep.

"What the fuck do you want? Does the galaxy need saving again?"

"It _still_ needs saving," murmured Thane. But wouldn't it always? Would they simply resurrect Natalya every time they needed her?

"Why? Couldn't you go stop the Collectors without me?" her words were snide and bitter. "Couldn't save it without me?"

"No…" whispered Thane, sitting on the bed. "No we couldn't…"

"Why not?" These words were whimpered as she threw one arm over her face. "Why… why not? Why can't you do it without me? Why can't… why do _I_ have to be the one to do it?"

"I wish you didn't have to. I wish we could do it without you. I wish you could rest, Natalya."

Her fist clenched tightly, but she didn't speak.

"_Si_… Shepard… Natalya." Thane reached out to touch her hand, opening her fingers and twining his with hers. "I am so sorry for what they did to you."

"You don't know what they did to me!" she cried, but she didn't pull her hand from his. Tears flowed down her face as she leant forward, grabbing the front of his coat. "You don't know what they are doing to me!"

"So tell me." When she turned away, Thane cupped her jaw in his hand and stroked his thumb over her chin. "Tell me."

She grabbed his hands and shoved him back. "No. Damn it. _No_. Get out of here, Thane. Get _out_."

"No." She shoved at him again and he grabbed her wrist, pushing her hand aside. Her other hand was deflected. She continued to fight futilely and Thane finally grabbed her upper arms, jerked her up and pressed his lips against hers.

Natalya went motionless as he had hoped and he leant back from the kiss before any hallucinogenic effects could take hold.

"Nothing you tell me could make me admire you less, Natalya. Nothing you tell me could make me love you less."

"You _can't_ love me," she said hoarsely. "You don't know me."

He pulled back until he looked into her eyes, moving his hands from her arms to her face, holding her still so he could look her in the eyes. "Then let me know you. If you think who you are is so terrible, if you think your crimes are so atrocious as to turn me away from you, then tell them to me, so I can prove you wrong. And gladly so."

"I'm a traitor," she said quickly. "I'm a murderer. I betrayed their memories. I left Toombs to die! I-"

"Tell me what _happened_, Natalya."

Natalya's pale violet eyes stared back at him and Thane didn't break the stare as she whispered. "It was a group of fifty. We were sent to investigate a colony that had gone silent…"

She proceeded to tell him about the planet Akuze. The colony. The thresher maw that had exploded out from under their feet. Killed four men instantly including their commanding officer. It was the first thresher maw they had ever encountered in the history of the human race. In recorded history, at least. Natalya described how her men had died in front of her. Most were melted into biological ooze in the acid it spat. She described how she lost sight of Toombs and some of the others. But she could hear their screaming. Their screaming and the shrieks of the thresher maw as it killed them. Only later did she find out that it was only eliminating what it thought to be threats to its territory. At the time, and for many years after, she thought it had eaten them.

She told him how she had fired until her guns had run dry. Until there was no more screaming and she was standing alone. She assumed, now, that because she was standing still the thresher maw had disregarded her, and her running footsteps hadn't alerted it to her existence. Because she ran then. She had run away, sobbing and crying, like a coward, she said. Until she collapsed face down in the sand and passed out.

She had woken up a week later in an Alliance hospital. The only survivor, she had been told. She was the only survivor.

"I needed… physiotherapy for the next year," she whispered, "before I could return to active duty." She was sitting curled up on her bed, chin on her knees, staring at the wall. Thane was kneeling beside her, his forehead against her temple as he listened to her in silence. "I had a scar on my face from… from something. I can't remember where I got it from. I remember that it ripped my helmet clear off my head. But the scars on my body…" She clenched her fists in her shirt, having released her pistol during the story. "When I… I…" She gestured ineffectively. "Whenever someone saw me naked, it took them a while to get used to the scars. They… they weren't pretty…" She put her hand to her face and gasped for breath, "But now they're _gone_. My scars are _gone_ and I have… and there's nothing left of… of what happened… Toombs hit me… he _hit _me…"

"I was there," murmured Thane, opening his eyes. "I must say I disapproved of it all…"

"The bruises are gone, Thane. Gone. The scars. It's all gone. I don't… I can't… bear anything. Nothing. From it all…" She seemed desperate to find a reason to hate herself, and was turning to something she had no control over.

"You have not forgotten," whispered Thane, stroking her hair. "Your memories are greater than any scar you could ever bear, Shepard. The torments you inflict on yourself go deeper than any wound. Your scars are nothing compared to what you do to yourself. You said it yourself, Natalya. They are dead. They are dead and you need to help the living. Everything you said then was true. Toombs refused to hear you. Don't let him destroy you. Don't destroy yourself. Please. Deep down you know what you spoke was true. Every word. Why must you do this to yourself?"

She sat up on the bed, keeping her hand in his, as she stared blankly ahead. "It's not enough."

"Who judges whether or not it is enough?" countered Thane defiantly. "Yourself? You are hardly an adequate judge. You are far too harsh on yourself. Garrus knew it all, and yet he follows you to the end. He joined with you once, and then again, knowing it all. Tali'Zorah knew, and yet she is with you still. _I_ know, _siha_." He touched her face. "And yet I am still here. I feel no less for you…" He stroked her cheek. "You carry guilt differently to my people. To me. I will not attempt to compare, but know that I understand how you feel, _siha_, and nothing changes me, except to realize how strong you are. So strong to carry such weight and continue to hold your head high before others."

"I… I killed Toombs…"

"He killed himself… And Garrus said he was not Toombs as you knew him. This is true, Natalya. It was not your friend, for no friend could look at you and inflict more suffering. Let the man die, and remember him as he was in his life, not in his final moments."

Shepard's shoulders slumped. "Cerberus killed my friends… and I am allying with them…"

"Out of necessity. Not out of want. Will you cease to breathe to honour the air they do not take? Will blind yourself so as not to see the sights they do not witness?" Thane cupped her face and turned her towards him, his eyes searching hers. "Will you cut out your heart so you will not love when they can no longer?"

"Thane…" She grasped his wrist, trying to turn away.

"Now I know the guilt you feel. I know the darkness in your heart. Look at me!" She shivered and stopped fighting, staring at him. "Know that what I feel for you has no diminished in the slightest. Not at all."

She swallowed hard, before closing her eyes, tears easing down her cheeks.

"Do you think your friends would want you to do this to yourself? If your positions were reversed, would you want the one survivor to do this to themselves? When they are trying to do what is right?"

She shook her head, before pressing closer to him. Thane let her, tucking her against his chest.

"You carry so much alone, _siha_… Let me help you. Please."

"Don't _call_ me that!" she whispered, pushing him away. "Tenacious protector my _ass_! I can't… I can't protect anyone! I can't… I'm not an angel. I'm not… God, I am _not_ an angel…"

"_Siha_," Thane whispered, gathering her to his arms again and refusing to let her be free this time. "I do not know what your people's interpretation of angels are, but I assure you that you are nothing short of a _siha_…" He stroked her hair gently, rocking her as one would a child. "There is a difference between selfishness and selflessness. You have forsaken vengeance for justice. You have recognized selfishness and turned towards selflessness. You have put aside your own guilt, your own sense of self-worth, in order to protect those that need you. You have… you feel you have damned yourself, in order to do what is _right_. You are a paragon, _siha_. You are a warrior without equal, not because you do what you want to do, but because you do what you have to, when it is exactly what you _do not_ want to do. Because you acknowledge that this is what must be done. I saw it from the moment I met you. When you helped me with my son, when I watched your actions and your behaviour and the way you agonized over the decisions you made and the lives you took." He hugged her tighter. "It is different to how I think on my own actions, but it is no less admirable. You make things so difficult for yourself, but you still continue forward, regardless, doing the right thing, fighting for others, whether they are grateful or not. Fighting for the lost." He lifted her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, each of her eyes, and then her lips. "If this is not an angel in your people's culture, _siha_, than perhaps you are, indeed, not an angel. But you are _siha_. You will always be _siha_ to me…"

Shepard wrapped her arms tightly around him, her nails digging into his back as she wept, "_Siha_ do not cry…"

"Perhaps not," he said quietly. "But _siha_ serve a goddess, and you serve people and yourself. I must imagine that it must be far more difficult for you. So I am sure this _siha_ in my arms is allowed to cry. In fact, I am very sure." He dipped his head and whispered in her ear, "And I shall simply kill anyone that disagrees."

Shepard clutched him tightly, gasping with pain, before she cried out, "I'm sorry!" Thane said nothing as she wailed the words into his chest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He continued to hold her, rocking her, letting her cry and scream and grieve into his chest, vowing to never let her go again.

And knowing that he would soon have to do exactly that.

**(/*\)**


	6. Until Forever

**Warning: **Game spoilers. Rated for Language. Shepard likes to swear.

**For those of you returning to this fiction**: I have not added any more chapters. I've simply edited and broken the existing fiction into a short work to make it easier to read. The final two chapters have been re-written.

**Last Edit**: 26/02/11

**Perdition**

Chapter 6

_Until Forever_

**(/*\)**

_Three fucking days_. She had been wallowing in her own guilt for three fucking days. Wasted. They were three days that could have been spent mining resources, or getting the IFF.

Or going through the Relay.

Natalya quietly banged her head against the wall of the shower, trying to dismiss Thane's quietly amused smile as he had calmly informed her that, despite 'Miss Lawson's' best attempts, the crew had simply refused to budge without her.

Damn if she didn't love them all in that moment.

He had also smoothly redirected her from her run to the door, insisting she needed a shower before she left her room, if only for presentation's sake. He had also insisted that, despite her protests that it was a waste of water, her shower should be no less than an hour. So she had spent thirty-nine point three two minutes scrubbing herself until she was red and painful, and the last twenty minutes standing and waiting for the hour to be up. Natalya didn't know why she felt the need to make sure that she actually stayed in the shower for the whole hour, but Thane's quiet, 'I'll know' had somewhat creeped her out.

Which let her know that she was slowly coming back to life. Not from the depression, either. Ever since her resurrection she had been floating in a state of suspended animation. Ever since her death, she had never truly been alive.

Now… now she could allow herself to be so.

When she looked in the mirror, she saw the fissures in her face were gone, only smooth skin and no red light from within. Oh, good. So if they ever came back, she could just cry her eyes out and spend a few days angsting and be good as new. Smiling slightly, she picked up a towel and examined her body as she dried her hair. No scars. No wounds. But she didn't mind, now. She remembered the men and women that had died on Akuze. More important than their deaths, she remembered them alive, as well. She remembered joking and playing cards and complaining that Akuze had nothing special about it when their shore leave was delayed for another month. She remembered when she first joined the squad. She remembered Toombs laughing and hazing her gently with a few others. Nothing major. Just some missing bras that turned up hanging from a flag pole somewhere.

She remembered the things that made her smile.

Pulling on a clean shirt and pants, she brushed her hands over the cloth. Thane was right. She had been _disgusting_. And he had hugged her. She blushed, remembering his hand in hers. His arms around her. Icky. The man had more resolve than she originally thought.

Natalya folded her towel and dropped it down the chute for dirty laundry – standing for a moment to realize how stupid it had been to fold it first– before stepping out of the bathroom. She stopped when she saw Thane standing at the steps leading down to her bed.

She blinked, startled, as he stepped towards her and held out his hand.

"This evening is still for you."

Natalya hesitated, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. Slowly she put her hand into his. He bowed over it, kissing her knuckles, and led her towards the steps. She gaped when she saw two wine glasses, two plates of food and candles flickering on the low table near the couches. Actual candles. She didn't even know they _had_ candles. Shouldn't she know if they had candles?

"What… where… what… What?" She blinked, shook her head and then touched her hair. Absurd. Her hair was the least of her concerns.

"You have not eaten properly," noted Thane, bowing his head slightly. "Not for the past few days. And I wanted to make sure that you ate something." He smiled with his eyes, although his face remained perfectly serious. "And I felt you would feel uncomfortable if I watched you eat, so I prepared food for myself, as well."

"You… _what_?" Shepard blinked at him.

"It is… It was hard to duplicate with the supplies aboard. They are very different to what is found on Kahje. But it is as close to a traditional drell dish that I could manage."

Shepard blinked, stunned, before staring at the food. "You cooked me a meal?" Her voice was flatly incredulous rather than stunned.

"I am afraid that Rupert had already cooked dinner, and Jack and Grunt proceeded to consume every single scrap of left over that they could. I was unable to secure a plate for you."

"So you cooked me a meal?"

"I cooked _us_ a meal, _siha_." He gestured with one hand. The perfect gentleman. Damn him.

Shepard edged around the food like it was something alive and liable to attack her as she sat down on the couch. Thane sat only after she had, smiling at her properly, with his mouth and everything.

"Don't laugh at me," she lowered a brow at him. "No one's cooked me a meal before. I've never even been out to dinner before. And this is 'out to dinner'. It has wine. And candles." She eyed them suspiciously. "Why didn't I know we had candles?"

"I doubted the wisdom of imbibing in more alcohol after you have undoubtedly consumed the entire ship's supply," demurred Thane. "But I am aware that… wine, along with candles, is the prerequisite to a romantic evening."

"Roma-what?" Natalya did a double take.

"When I told you of my wife, you told me that you cared for me, and offered to be there for me. You truly think your pain would mean anything different for me?"

"Thane…"

Thane folded his hands in his lap and looked at her. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, _siha_. You trust Garrus with your back in battle. I am an outsider to such. He is your second in command. He is your… your military support. But there is something else you need. Something that Garrus cannot provide. Please… let me provide this for you." He lifted her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles again. "I think on why it is I came to join you. At first I thought it was because you offered me the chance to die nobly. Because I could do something worthy in the time I had left. Saving your race, protecting them from a threat. But now I realize that this was not it at all. Perhaps Arashu herself guided me to you. To save my son. To save myself." He lifted his black eyes to hers, the barely-discernable outline of his irises and pupils gazing into her own violet ones. "To save you, perhaps."

Shepard's lips parted as Thane drew away, a smile on his face. "But I am not so arrogant as to think I can do that. You are someone so venerable and untouchable. And I… I am a mere mortal in the presence of a _siha_." He lowered his eyes to his meal, appearing… humble. "But if my _siha_ would allow me… allow herself to need me, it would please me very much if she would lean on me when she needed to. If she would rest her head on my shoulder and sleep. And weep. It would not make her any less of a _siha_, but it would make… it would make me feel far more than a mere man."

Natalya's gaze went flat. "Stop that. I am just a woman, Thane. I don't want to be anything more.

"I do not think you anything more than a human woman," he said. "A mortal. But who you are, your spirit, your tenacity, would be better suited to a _siha_. I do not hold you in any higher esteem than you deserve, I promise you. You are more than human not because of what you have done, but because of who you are, which defies mortality itself." He lifted his hand and brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek, pulling her closer. Shepard was a little shaken that he knew exactly what to say to her. What she needed to hear the most.

"But there is more than that, _siha_. More than this warrior that you are. It is the woman. The woman I have seen in battle and here, grieving for something she could not change. For those she lost. The woman in my arms is more than any other in the galaxy could know. You are so strong. So very strong. But you are also weak. Inside, where it counts, you are weak and frail. Let me be your strength, _siha_. Let me be there for you. Lean on me, Natalya…" He cupped her face in his hand and brushed his thumb over her lips. "I will provide everything you need. I swear it."

Tears hovered on her lashes and she swallowed, staring up at him. "Why…?"

"Why?" He tilted his head. "Because my heart sings when I am with you. It weeps when you weep. It cries out in anguish when you are hurt. From the moment I met you, I was drawn to you. I could not resist and now I do not want to. I cannot protect you in battle. You are the stronger fighter. I cannot help you there. But here, in the quiet, where the galaxy is not permitted, where there is no violence and where there is only us, I want to protect you. From everything. From yourself."

"And because… because when I am with you, _siha_, I believe anything is possible. Forgiveness. A second chance." He wrapped his arm around her waist, lowering the lids of his eyes to look at her lips. "Eternal love…"

With candlelight flickering over the both of them, Thane lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle, lingering kiss that spoke of love and admiration and protection and promises of forever that he wanted more than anything to keep.

**(/*\)**

Garrus couldn't concentrate. He knew that Shepard was feeling better, Thane had come down to prepare food for her, stating to the stunned turian that she was aware of her body again. Bathing and eating meant she was seeing to her own needs once more. She no longer wanted to die. But still… it had been a whole day since that had happened. Though Thane had not come back down, which could only bode _well_, he still needed to _know_…

The door behind him opened, ripping him from his firing algorithms with a turian growl of irritation. Garrus turned, and then stopped, his mandibles falling lax with shock. Shepard took two steps towards him and wrapped him tightly in a hug, burying her face against his chest. Garrus reflexively wrapped his arms around her tightly. To turians, hugging was not a natural thing, but he was well aware of the human need for embracing, something that asari shared.

"It's not your fault," he said in a rush. "You're not Sidonis. You're not the same. It's not the same. It isn't!"

"I know."

Garrus was about to continue his spiel, expecting her to have objected, but cut himself off when he realised that she had agreed with him. So, instead, he said, "I just wanted you to be okay." His arms tightened around her. "The galaxy could burn for all I cared. The Collectors, the Reapers, the Council, I didn't care. I just wanted you to be okay."

"I am," she whispered. "I am. Now, I am." She stepped back and sucked in a breath. "I just wanted to let you know I'm okay, and I'm sorry for being… I'm sorry." Natalya stepped back and looked up at him. "I have one more thing to do, and then we can get back to the mission."

He nodded and smiled at her. "Good to have you back, Commander."

She slapped his arm and turned from the Main Battery, heading out to the mess, drying the rest of the tears from her eyes. Rupert offered her a small wave and she smiled and waved back, and then looked toward the closed doors of Miranda's office. On the previous _Normandy_, it was where her own quarters would have been. The significance of placing Miranda's room there was not lost on her.

She opened the door to Miranda's office with a gesture of her fingers through the panel.

"Shepard." Miranda's tone was clipped as she folded her hands over one another, watching the other woman from over her monitor. "How can I help you?" She did not seem surprised to see Natalya, despite her three day sabbatical. Natalya wasn't surprised at that.

Shepard stepped inside, feeling the doors close behind her. "We need to talk."

"Yes," said Miranda. "We do. First of all, I want to make this very clear. The Illusive Man-"

"Has no authority on my ship." Shepard drew strength from deep inside of her, from the Commander Shepard she needed to be, not the one she felt like she was. It allowed her to meet Miranda's cold, hard gaze levelly, giving her absolutely nothing to work off.

Miranda's mouth opened, anger visibly suffusing her body.

Natalya's hand went up to stop her from speaking and she continued. "Don't get me wrong, Miranda. I get that this ship was funded and built by him. And yeah, maybe it's on _loan_ or whatever. But there are a few factors that the ingenious Illusive Man didn't consider and neither did you." Shepard folded her arms over her chest. "First, let me say I respect you. You are a strong, tenacious, spirited person who does what she wants and is… unrepentant for that. Something that a lot of people lack. But you're selective in what you take responsibility for."

"If this is about Akuze-"

Shepard held up her hand again, turning her head away. "I'm not done. I'm not blaming you for Akuze, Miranda. You had nothing to do with it. Whether or not the Illusive Man did… I can't say for sure. And even if you tell me he didn't, I won't be able to believe you. Not completely. I just can't. But the fact remains that _Cerberus_ was responsible for Akuze. _Cerberus_. My squad died because of Cerberus. My friend, Toombs, was tortured by of Cerberus."

Shepard walked over to the window in Miranda's room, staring out to space. "You might not have had anything to do with them, but your devout support and… and your total lack of regret for the things that Cerberus has done – and they _have_ done some _horrific_ things, Miranda – means that where blame should and should not fall blurs. Maybe people could… maybe _I_ could look past the fact that you're a Cerberus operative, but you keep thrusting it into everyone's faces. Into my face. It's hard to look around it when that's all you're giving people to look at."

"You can't blame me for what happened to you, Shepard. You can't blame me for the things Cerberus did. The Flotilla. Akuze. Even the experiments-"

"_It was all _wrong_, Miranda_," snapped Shepard, looking over her shoulder. "It was sick, twisted and _wrong_. The ends may justify the means for you, but not for me. You didn't see what I saw. You didn't watch your people scream as they died. You didn't have to talk Toombs down from shooting someone when _you_ wanted to shoot him, too. You… You didn't get an email from your squad mate, your friend, saying that he's going to _kill_ you if he finds you. It wasn't _your_ fault, I know that. But you work for the group that did it. So when you sing their praises and claim that they are doing right… when you try and brush off the blame… You don't realize what you're doing. You can't just push aside what has happened. You can't wash your hands of the dirty deeds, declaring that it was a renegade arm, and thereby absolving yourself of guilt. It doesn't work that way. And you can't make Cerberus look any better to me. You just can't. I hate Cerberus and I always will."

Shepard clenched her fists as her jaw worked in silence, fighting for control. She walked away from the window, towards the door, but before she reached it she spun back to Miranda's desk. "I learned a long, long time ago that when you have so many different people together, with different views and different backgrounds, not everyone is going to agree. And you can't please everyone. But what you can do is accept that people are different, and try not to make yourself seem _right_, and that they are _wrong_."

Shepard braced her hands on Miranda's desk and leant over, speaking to her quietly. "So I've accepted that Grunt is a gun that just needs to be pointed at something. And I accept that Mordin thinks that the genophage was the right idea. I've accepted that Thane's responsibility for what he has done differs to mine. I've accepted that Jack's a fucking psycho and hates everyone she's ever encountered to some degree. I've accepted Samara's Code means that she'd probably kill half the people on this crew, _including_ me. I've accepted that Tali thinks that the quarians were wholly justified in attempting to butcher the geth to make up for _their_ mistake. I've accepted that Joker's an ass and that if his skull wouldn't threaten to splinter if I did it, I'd cuff him over the back of the head half the times I spoke to him. I accepted that Garrus needed to save the universe. I accept this, because that's how people are. Because when you _befriend_ them, you take the good and the bad and you _don't_ change them."

Shepard shoved away from Miranda's desk and stood silently, staring at the wall. She also accepted that Ashley had a deep distrust of aliens. That Kaiden was emotionally undeveloped and naïve. That Liara was too young to know what she wanted. She was good at accepting people for their faults. It's what made them… unique. Different. Not the good things about them, but the bad things.

"And the people I… I love…" Thane and Garrus… "Have accepted that my temper is short and I'm more likely to shoot someone than to speak to them. That I push people out of windows and punch people in the face. They accept that I'm not the best person alive. They accept that I am uncompromising when it comes to my values and sense of justice, even if it differs from theirs. They accept that I… I blame myself when I shouldn't, and that I carry… more guilt on my shoulders than any person should be able to cope with. And they don't change that…"

She looked at Miranda again, eyes sad but hard. "I've accepted the fact that you're loyal to Cerberus. That you believe what Cerberus is doing is right. I have. I really have. But you _refuse_ to accept that what _I_ think Cerberus is doing is _wrong_. You are so hell bent on justifying Cerberus that you just can't seem to get that some people don't see what they did as ever being justifiable. I don't. I really don't. I will always hate Cerberus for what they did to me. But I don't hate you, Miranda. I like you. I'd like to consider you a friend. But… but you have to separate yourself from Cerberus. Be Miranda Lawson. Not Operative Lawson."

Miranda stared up at Shepard, face an emotionless mask, giving nothing away.

Shepard grasped one of the chairs, digging her fingers in. "As for this ship? And my second life? I owe the Illusive Man nothing. _Nothing_. I am not indebted to him. I am not under his command. I am not. I am working _with_ you because we are fighting for the same thing. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. For now. But if anything, I have yet to collect what Cerberus owes _me_."

Shepard turned and walked to the door of Miranda's office. Her hand hovered over the indicator panel and she hesitated, before looking over her shoulder. She didn't look far enough to see Miranda. She didn't want to. Instead, she just spoke to the wall to her right.

"As much as you don't want to admit it, Miranda, I have every reason to hate Cerberus. You might be loyal to them for saving you, but… but they didn't save me." Shepard turned her head and lowered it, closing her eyes. "No one asked me if I _wanted_ to be brought back from the dead."

Then she opened the door to Miranda's office and walked out without looking back.

**(/*\)**

Thane had his hands behind his back when the door to Shepard's quarters opened, permitting him entrance.

"You wanted to see me, _siha_?"

Though he had spent the night with Shepard, all they had done was hold each other and sleep, with bellies full of food and alcohol. They had woken together and she had permitted his use of her shower, or rather ordered him to use it and stop being so much of a gentleman. It wasn't like they were showering _together_. Then they had gone their separate ways as Natalya resumed control over the _Normandy_, relieving Garrus, unofficially, and putting Miranda in her place, again unofficially.

Apparently she had given the woman food for thought.

Now Natalya was standing in front of the fish tank, one hand resting on the glass as she stared at the water like it held the answers to ancient Prothean secrets. She wore her Cerberus uniform, not the shirt and shorts but the crisp grey uniform with the Cerberus logo on the shoulder. She had acquiesced early on that her budget did not allow for personal shopping trips for clothes to wear. At that time she had _loathed_ the clothing. Now she acknowledged that it was just clothing.

Wearing it changed nothing.

"_Siha_?"

"I bought some fish on Illium."

Thane blinked.

"Do you remember? When we came back from recruiting Samara and I was running around for Liara? And there was that krogan reciting… _horrible_ poetry to the asari?"

"I remember."

Shepard clenched her fist and bumped it against the glass. "I thought… why the hell not? I'd never owned a fish before. So I bought a fish. And then I got so caught up in the mission… so caught up in everything… in Miranda's needs and the Collector's and recruiting Tali… By the time I remembered I even _had_ fish… they were dead. And as I cleaned out their bodies I realized that because of my neglect, because of my inability to think of anything other than… than my _duty,_" her voice quickened as she spoke, becoming more distressed, "these fish had died. At the time they were unimportant to me, but I bet the fish thought differently. I bet their lives were very important in the fishy scheme of things… They relied on me, and I… I failed to care for them. And for that, they died. They were actually my responsibility and they died."

Her shoulders slumped and she rested her head on the glass. "Not everything thinks about death the same. Not really. You… you're preparing for yours and I… I go into every battle expecting mine and… But it's so final, you know. It's _over_. Once death comes for you, it's just… you're done." She closed her eyes. "You know what I felt when I realized I was going to die, Thane? _Relief_. It was _over_. It was _over_ and I didn't have to do _anything anymore_. No more Reapers. No more Council. No more _guilt_. I could… I could _sleep_." She pushed herself up from the tank and stared at it, palm flat against it. "And then Cerberus brought me back. They brought me back and I was left with the Reapers again. With the Collectors. With the impossible. With a galaxy to save that didn't really give a shit about me or what I did… But because I came back… because I had to ally with Cerberus and do my duty and do what's _right_… the fish died." She ran her fingers down the glass. "They died because I didn't… take care of them. Because I forgot about them. Because I bought them."

She turned towards Thane, her eyes hidden and dark, her emotions veiled. "I don't deliberately forget to take care of myself, I don't. I just forget. It's easier to… it's easier to be a soldier than it is to be a person. I used to have the scars to remind me what I… what I survived. But now they're gone. They're gone and I… it's like Cerberus robbed me of something else. Like it's something else I have to feel guilty for. So I throw myself into this suicide mission. I throw myself into my duty. So I can forget. I can forget my guilt. I can forget… I can forget me."

Shepard paced from one side of her room to the other, and then again, before she turned back to Thane, speaking to him without looking at him. "I don't want to worry anyone. It's just… hard. Hard for me to think of myself as a person. As… as someone. Not something. You say that… the soul and body are separate. That the body is a tool, an object, and the soul is… not a part of that. But that's not how it is for me. My soul is… rocked. Shattered. Broken. And my body… what my body does, is the only thing that keeps it together. Without my body… my duty, my soul would just come apart. If I remember me, if I remember my own needs and desires…"

She stepped towards Thane, he atop the steps and she at the bottom. "I… I want to get another fish. I'm going to the Citadel and I'm going to get more fish. And I'm gonna buy that space hampster. It was so cute. But I know… I know I won't be able to take care of them. I'll forget. I'll… I'll lose myself in the mission. And then I'll lose myself to guilt and I… I'll forget the in-between."

She lifted her head and looked up at Thane, blinking back tears. "Can… can you feed my fish for me? Can you remember to… to take care of my fish?"

Thane blinked at her slowly. He knew what she was asking. He knew what she was asking without asking. Because she didn't want to make herself vulnerable. Because she had spent her last few years being strong, hiding the cracks in her armour with new armour. Because she had spent three days indulging in her own guilt and grief and she didn't want to keep doing it. But she needed to know. She needed to hear him say it. And he was more than happy to, because he needed to say it himself. He wanted her to know.

He took one step down, then the other. Reaching out, he picked up her hand carefully, holding it in his. Reaching out to touch her face with his other hand, he smiled at her gently. "I will take care of the fish, _siha_," he said. "I will take care of your fish for you."

"You will… remember for me?"

Thane carefully gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly. Such a strong woman. A violent storm. And he was the calm sea beneath her. Everyone thought she was wholly unshakeable, but now he knew better. He also knew Garrus knew better, and Tali. But Shepard had not opened up to them.

She had opened up to him, and he would not let her down.

"I will remember, Natalya. I will remember for you." He stroked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I was jealous, you know?"

"What?" The total change of subject threw her and she blinked.

"Of your closeness with Vakarian. I thought you were enamoured with him. I did not want to get between that, but I was jealous of it."

"What?" she repeated, scowling.

"I'm glad to see I was so wrong. I would hate to have to kill the turian. I do like him."

"Wha-"

Thane cut her off with a kiss, feeling her lips curve into a smile under his. After a moment, the kiss grew heated and Thane turned, pressing her against the fish tank. He pinned her hands beside her head and deepened the kiss. Relief and desire warred for supremacy in his mind and he allowed them all to wash over in the kiss. She echoed his thoughts with a sound that embodied both and pressed closer to him, her tongue teasing his lips, easing them apart. As he allowed her entrance, he burned this moment into his already perfect memory.

A memory laced with the bitter, metallic taste of raw terror and abject anguish because with that kiss ten years of hard work came undone. Or, perhaps it was simply confirming it, for Thane now knew that he was no longer at peace with his fate. No longer was he prepared to go to the sea. No longer was he ready to die. It was not that he regretted that his time was finite, it was that he simply did not want to die anymore. He wanted to live, and he wanted to live with Natalya Shepard.

And, for the first time in his entire recollection, Thane Krios found himself wanting to live forever, because to die was to be without Natalya. Even the thought of rejoining Irikah did not comfort him. The simple fact that when his body ceased to breathe, he would forever be apart from her did not simply sadden Thane.

It terrified him.

**(/*\)**

Shepard stepped out of the elevator, her fingers sliding away from Thane's. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he flashed her a smile, lift his hand and placed it over his heart, before bowing. When his head came back up, there was colour on Shepard's cheeks and she dropped her eyes. Then, just before the elevator doors closed, she lifted her hand and touched her heart, widening Thane's smile.

When the elevator was gone, Shepard turned to Kelly. The yeoman was staring at Shepard uneasily, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Natalya cleared her throat, feeling uncomfortable. "Thank you for talking to Thane. And Garrus. When I wouldn't." She knew now, thanks to Thane and Garrus both, that Kelly had recognized the warning signs of… well she had described it as an onset of Post Traumatic Stress. A psychological break waiting to happen. Natalya preferred to call it 'weepy time'.

Shepard had been crumbling, and Kelly had known that she needed help, even if Shepard herself had been unwilling to admit it, let alone ask for it. Shepard of a week ago might have been pissed that Kelly went behind her back like that. But she was no longer Shepard of a week ago.

Kelly, clearly, didn't know that, and was prepared for some sort of reprisal for what she had done, "That's alright…"

Natalya tilted her head, closed her eyes, and said quietly, "And... maybe I suppose... maybe we could talk some time."

Kelly's eyes lit up, before she carefully hid her joy. "Shepard, you don't have to appease me..."

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck and stared off to one side, "Yeah. I know. But... not as a professional okay, Kelly? Not as a therapist. I..." She smiled. "I got one of those." She had two, really.

Garrus and Thane, both, would listen to her, help her. She had never realized it before. Kelly could help a crew that didn't know trust, but Shepard... Shepard had everything she needed.

"Sure," said Kelly, nodding with a gentle and understanding smile. For once, Shepard was glad she understood. "Maybe we can talk later."

"Maybe."

Stepping away, Shepard climbed the steps to the CIC, her head high, her eyes determined.

"Joker. Let's go get that IFF."

**(/*\)**

**Tl;dnr is at the bottom in bold. For convenience, I have split this into several sections.**

My dearest readers and reviewers,

Never let it said that I don't cherish each and every one of you (yes, even you flamers. Here. Have a cookie). However, there has something that has been brought to my attention that I feel I can't ignore. And, yes, I am **blatantly** exploiting you, right now, but don't worry. This will be put on every single one of my fanfictions, so you're not the only ones.

As some of you may be aware, there have been a mass deletion of fanfictions and account suspensions and even bannings on this site. People are losing their stories and their accounts. Talented writers. Beginner writers. Hobbyists. This is due to their fictions being reported for infractions on this site's rules, all because of an elitist stranglehold and monopoly of membership and participation on this site.

'**Critics United'/ 'Literate Union'**

_Aka, an attempt to validate vicious cyberbullying_

Now, let it never be said that I think that the rules should be violated, or that violations should be allowed. They are there for many reasons, most primarily legal. has been careful to ensure that we are all able to post fanfictions on this site, an act in and of itself that can be considered legally questionable. After all, we are appropriating intellectual property that belongs to those that are not ourselves, aren't we (although let me remark on the hilarity of having potentially plagiarised images on our plagiarised stories). Those who run have done incredible work, voluntarily, and are amazing people for doing so. However, whether or not these fictions violate the rules, or the validation of the removal of their works is not what I am bringing to light here. You are able to formulate your own opinion on the matter, and you are responsible for your own works.

As well as your own _behaviour_.

And it is behaviour that I wish to address here. The horrendous and reprehensible behaviour of members of this site who have joined together in a hateful mission of cyber bullying. Because that is exactly what this is; the most deplorable example of victimisation and antagonism I have **ever seen on this site.** These people specifically target stories that violate this site, and persistently hover over it like vultures, pecking away at the victim until they get what they want; which is ultimately a deletion of all stories that violate the rules of this site.

These are not people who report stories and move on. They have made it their mission to see deleted each and every single fiction that exhibits an infraction of the rules, however major or minor, and in the process humiliate and persecute the authors who – as I have seen many of them state – are apparently deserving of the ridicule that this group inflicts upon them.

And they have a forum dedicated to this end. On this site. There, they collate fictions that they have seen deleted, either directly or indirectly, in a hall of shame. They also bring forth fictions for judgement by their fellows for the sole purpose of deciding whether or not it violates the rules and, if it can be proven that it does violate the rules, they proceed to head to the fiction en-mass to spam the story's review feed and report the fiction if they don't comply to the site's rules.

They collate deleted fictions in a 'hall of shame' topic that allows them to display all the fictions that have been deleted because of their actions. They congratulate each other on a job well done. They laugh at poor writing, drag people through the dirt, and for what? So that they can feel good about their 'hard work'? So that they can feel as though they have some great power holding life or death over these fictions, passing judgement on these authors?

Now, for their credit, they seem to think they are doing the right thing. They ensure to discuss questionable fics, ensure that they are breaking rules, and then go and report. And some of them are courteous and polite about their warnings. On the forum, one person this:

"_1. None of the people on this site are god, but the admins on this site__do__decide what stories get to be on here based on the guidelines__you__agreed to._

_2. The people here don't report stories because they're bad, we report stories because they break guidelines. (This includes horrific spelling, grammar, and chat-speak.) Given, if it is a bad story, we might tear it to pieces with our criticism, but we don't report it."_

This statement is of merit, and would be acceptable, if it were not for the fact that, four posts down, the _same_ _person_ posted this:

"_Reviewed and reported. Really, do all stupid fangirls really think they're going to get away with absolute crap like this? Just as well, why must all of them put it in eye-blinding bold and italics?"_

The hypocrisy of them trying to claim some noble cause while passing these personal judgements sickens me. After all, I don't know about you, but I am a fangirl of many things, and saying such disparagingly judgemental terms makes me feel like this person puts themselves at a level far above my own. I don't want to seem arrogant or egotistical when I say this, but I would dearly love to see this person use the term 'fangirl' as an insult to my face.

One group of people call themselves 'Critics United', but I can safely say that their self-titling is pathetic. These people are not critics. They are bullies hiding under a guise of justification because they are only targeting those that break the rules of this site. A cause like that does not explain or validate their actions in any way. It is not less bullying, it is not less a ridiculous display of egotism, and it is no less an act of _victimisation_. This is not critiquing, this isn't even constructive criticism, as they like to claim it. I am a critic. I am a _literature student_. And I would never, _ever_ equate these people with holding the role of critique, unless they are referring to the meaning of being negative naysayers.

Moreover, you do not justify your actions as constructive criticism when you force it down someone's throat. Not everyone can handle constructive criticism, and you don't get to stamp your words and self-stylise in order to validate such criticism when someone doesn't want it. **That is still bullying.**

The fact that these people try to veil their victimisation behind courteous and polite words doesn't make it any less bullying. Doesn't make it any less than a vindictive desire to hold some elitist hold over writing over this site, and proclaim themselves judge, jury and executioner of people's fictions. They have been screenshotted in reviews saying things like 'piece of **' 'toxic crap' and directly insulting people's writing skill. I don't know about you, but this kind of juvenile behaviour cannot be considered 'critiquing'. _That_ behaviour is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. How dare they hold some holier-than-thou attitude over other writers and maintain some sort of integrity because they are 'enforcing the rules'.

As I have said, _I do not condone rule breaking in any way, shape or form_ on this site, and I have been careful to ensure that my own fics do not break the rules. But that does not mean that I feel I have a right to hunt down all the fics that do break the rules. It is the responsibility of each and every member to ensure their works don't break the rules, and to report those that flaunt the rules.

_And then move on_.

Making a group for the sole purpose of some self-imposed duty of policing disgusts me. The idea that someone has read my fictions, nodded their head and said 'You pass', decreeing that I would be allowed to post not merely because I have followed the rules, but because _they gave me permission to_ disgusts me. These people have taken a power that belongs to everyone, and decided to turn it toward their own means, believing that they are safe and okay because they are merely upholding the rules of the site. When, in actuality, that is not at all merely what they are doing.

And what is worse, _is condoning their behaviour_. I do not believe that the administrators of this site are reading the stories they have deleted, validating that they violate the rules, and then deleted them based on their own judgement. Instead, they are going after people based on the report count listed by their name, a count that this group, Critics United, is largely responsible for.

For those members of this group who feel that they have some form of duty to patrol this site for this purpose, but are careful and courteous in their reviews and warnings, I'm sorry. But you willingly associate with this ego-trip and I am afraid you are not completely free of blame.

For those of you that use this as an excuse to flaunt your superiority over others, and then claim no responsibility for your actions because you are 'upholding the rules'… There is no excuse, justification, or validation for your behaviour. None.

Nor is there an excuse, justification, or validation for 's condoning of it.

A worse group, however, is the Literate Union, which is almost identical to Critics United except for the fact that they are fully aware of the fact that all they do is flame, degrade and viciously bully those who they believe is worthy. They are everything I have stated above, without an attempt to justify their cruel behaviour. These people are slightly more self-aware, but even less mature in their actions. They have a forum dedicated to asking one another to specifically go and _flame_ people and their stories, and I am at a loss as to the reason why.

Critics United have embarked on a witch hunt because they want to destroy the witches and purge their town.

Literate Union just wants to watch people squeal and burn in the flames.

This is cyber bullying, without any explanation or excuse. 'Upholding the rules' is not something I will accept. It does not require this level of hunt-and-kill execution that these people are exhibiting. It isn't their right to take it upon themselves to tear apart each author, post it on their hateful forum and giggle behind their hands with one another.

I do not want to be associated with a site that condones this blatant display of bullying.

**The rating system/the bannings and deletions**

_AKA I think you missed one_

As many readers may be aware, this time of year slows down for me because of my university. I have also been unable to post new chapters on my fanfiction because I am writing a thesis, and it is draining most of my energy. I have to work toward a Ph.D scholarship, which can range anywhere from thirty-five to sixty-five thousand taxpayer dollars, which makes me want to make sure I am deserving of it. However, I was in the process of re-writing several of my fics, and prepared to post them en-mass when I next had time.

However, I would like to draw attention to this section of the front page;

June 4th 2012 - Notices:

Please note we would like to clarify the content policy we have in place since 2002. follows the Fiction Rating system ranging from Fiction K to Fiction M. Although Fiction Ratings goes up to Fiction MA, since 2002 has not allowed Fiction MA rated content which can contain adult/explicit content on the site. only accepts content in the Fiction K through Fiction M range. Fiction M can contain adult language, themes and suggestions. Detailed descriptions of physical interaction of sexual or violent nature is considered Fiction MA and has not been allowed on the site since 2002.

I would state here, briefly, that the idea of not having a mature rating for mature readers has always perplexed me. I feel making them unavailable to unregistered readers, and having a function in a profile that allows for a 'I am over the age of 18' box to be checked would cover the ethical issues in regards to this. Ethical considerations on the internet require only a disclosure of age and consent of content that is about to be read. Once a person checks a 'I am over the age of 18' box, the people who are exposing them to the information are no longer liable for any legal action. They have fulfilled their requirement of responsibility. As such, not having a mature section for this site has never really made sense for me. However, that is not what I wish to address here.

As such, I regret to inform my readers that, though the content of my stories are not exclusively of this nature, many of my fictions feature such violence in their content, from detailed description of sexual interaction (_Gestalt_, and the intent in _Paradise Lost_), and violence (pretty much every single one of my fictions). What you would consider 'detailed' and rule violating, however, is subject to opinion, but from what I have addressed, opinion is enough to get your story deleted, or your account suspended or banned. I had thought that if the story had the content, but did not feature it as the main issue – for example a romance that went into sex, but did not have sex in every chapter – would be allowed as a mature example of professional writing.

I was, apparently, wrong.

I am fortunate that all of my stories exist on my laptop and not exclusively on , but it would devastate me to lose the wonderful reviews I have gotten from you, the painstaking time that you have all put in to telling me your thoughts and feelings on my work, helping me improve, giving me invaluable feedback and encouragement. I have been dragged from the depths of writer's block and depression because of the things you have said, and I cannot even imagine how some people feel with their stories deleted, not only losing their work, but the amazing reviews that people have left for them, to show them that their work is appreciated.

And let me say that the idea that is deleting fanfictions that depict graphic sex or violence, but are allowing people like Critics United and

I also do not feel like waiting for the Critics United group to turn their attention to the Mass Effect category and rifle through it, finding my fictions and passing their judgements on my work. It isn't their right.

**The result**

**As such – and I know many of you are going to hate me for this, and I'm sorry –henceforth, in protest of the actions being taken on this site;**

**I will no longer be updating any of my fanfictions.**

**I will not be posting the rewrites of **_**Paradise Lost**_**, **_**In the Shadow of Gods**_** and **_**A Cage of Butterflies**_** that I have been working on.**

**I will not be posting new stories or one-shots on this site, nor any planned sequels.**

**Whether or not I repost my fictions elsewhere, and whether or not I post new fictions elsewhere has yet to be decided.**

**This is me being responsible for my own actions, my own opinions, and my own image, in that I **_**will not be associated in any way with these people, nor will I allow their actions to go unaddressed**_**.**

**This is not a message to . This is a message to you, my readers, my reviewers. Critics United are a group of vicious cyberbullies who defend their actions with the guise of 'upholding the rules'. Literate Union are simply cyberbullies who do not even try to defend their actions, and their actions are blatantly antagonistic and cruel. This does not make it any less bullying. It does not make their actions any less cruel. While I advocate that the rules be upheld, and I know that some fictions are in blatant violation of them, this group should not be allowed to continue conducting themselves as they have. These people purposefully seek out and victimising members of this site, and this is not behaviour I want to endorse, condone, forgive, be associated with, or turn a blind eye to.**

**I am not sure if I will post my works elsewhere for people to read. If I do, I will let you know.**

**I have created a tumblr for mass communication in case my account on is deleted. annewhynnfanfiction(youknoetherest) Please add me. I will keep everyone updated.**

This needs to stop.

I love you all sincerely and dearly. You are my valued readers and reviewers, and you make me so happy whenever I hear anything from any of you. But this is unacceptable.

I am sorry.

For the forseable future, this is me signing out.

Love

Anne

P.S – Feel free to send me reviews filled with rage and hate, condemnations for my actions and… well. Anger. I have marshmellows ready.


End file.
